Finding destiny
by sorree
Summary: What if Nizam had succeeded with his treacherous attack on Dastan? My take on how the story could have ended...
1. Chapter 1

chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except my OC. No profits gained. Promise to put everything back after I have finished playing.

"You had what every man could ever dream of… Love, respect and family, but that wasn't enough for you, was it ?" Dastan spat disgusted at his uncle's treachery and with one final shove he pushed himself up from the ground. Leaving his uncle lying on his back still panting from their duel. With baited breath the soldiers around them were waiting for what was to come next. The stunning revelations of the youngest member of the royal family had silenced them all. The man everyone considered a wise counsellor had revealed himself to be a lowly traitor not only to his family but even to the Empire itself. The sentence for such a crime was death even if the accused was a member of the nobility. After his public execution his possessions would all fall to Empire, his name would never be spoken aloud again. History would forget him. Realization crashed down on Nizam. There wasn't a way out of this any more. He had miserably failed, sacrificed everything for nothing. Dastan had been right, he would always remain in the shadow. A irrespressible anger build up in his chest. He hadn't spoken his last word, yet.

Freed from the weight pinning him down, Nizam withdrew a carefully hidden dagger from the sleeve of his robe and leapt to his feet launching himself towards the three brethrenwith all the force of his desperation. His carefully planned rebellion against the curse Sharaman represented had been thwarted by this piece of thrash from the streets of Nasaf. If he couldn't fulfil his dreams of power, neither would Sharaman. There would no longer be a bond between three brethren and thus no sword to defend the empire…

Everything then happened in the blink of an eye. And none of the witnesses of the scene would recollect it in the same way.

Dastan sensing the movement behind him, instinctively turned, using his already legendary feline agility to escape the deadly blow. Almost at the same moment the dagger scraped along his leather breastplate and with one swift push entered between the leather straps holding the armour together… Time seemed to slow down. Tus, still recovering from the shock of all that had been unveiled by his younger sibling, didn't react until he saw the flash of the sun reflecting on the blade of the dagger. Instinct then set in. It took him only seconds to draw his shamshir and push it through his uncle's body in a desperate attempt to protect his little brother. Tus stood frozen shoulders slumped, as he watched his uncle's body slowly slide to the ground, his sword still embedded in it, fascinated by the dark red stain that spread on the precious silk of the blue tunic. He watched life fading in his uncle's cruel eyes, his expression at first a mix of surprise and disbelief. Then a tight smirk settled on Nizams lips even as his head lolled to the side and his eyes lost their focus.

The crown prince hesitated to turn around afraid of the scene that might display before him. There was only so much luck that his brother had been able to avoid the treacherous blade… His precious skills couldn't save him in such a situation. No one was that fast, not even the now famous Lion of Persia. He wasn't prepared to lose one of his brethren, at least not this way… in battle perhaps, but not at the hand of a murderer. An assassin coming from his own entourage. With a sigh he turned to see Dastan supported by Garsiv. The blow dealt by Nizam had made Dastan stumble forward towards the middle prince, who had caught him even as he fell forward, blinded by an overwhelming searing pain. The fire now spreading in his body was all encompassing. _Not good_, he thought.

Dastan was leaning heavily on his brother, his face contorted in pain and his skin was rapidly covering in a sheen of sweat. "Not so bad, " he panted, trying to quench the flames of pain coursing though his body. He even managed a half-smile, trying to convince Garsiv and Tus, whose worry was clearly etched on his face, as much as himself.

"Some stitches and I'll be as good as new…" His voice didn't sound convincing, not even to himself. But he wanted to show them he was as strong as they were so with the remnant of his energy he pushed himself away from Garsiv, only to collapse on the ground trembling as the world started spinning sickeningly around him.

Tus instantly knelt down next to him to examine the wound, careful not to jostle the dagger until he had made sure there was no danger in pulling it out. The blade was made of finest damascene steel. The intricate lines of the metal shimmering with blood as Tus held it in his clenched fist. A gasp escaped Dastan even as darkness surrounded him, momentarily taking all the pain away. His last conscious thought went to the princess in the Temple and he felt comforted that she was alive and safe …

Both, Tus and Garsiv's looks met, aware that their brother was fading fast.


	2. Chapter 2

First I have to say that I'm deeply pleased to see that some of you like the first chapter of this story. I promised that if I would publish it I wouldn't leave you hanging that's why it took me so long to upload. I had to finish the story first ;).

to xAshlingxDreamx: Dastan will have to stay out of it for the time being. Need some semblance of reality here. But he'll get active later on after all he has a stubborn princess on his hands…

to Woffles92: Don't hold your breath for too long it could get dangerous… Here's something to read while you're waiting. You see I like cliff-hangers, when I'm writing them, that is. Hope I can keep it up to your expectations.

to Pghj2005: Nope, definitely not leaving it there. I have some chapters up my sleeve.

to StarfishOnTheBeach : Thanks, trying to do my best as I'm not writing in my first language…

to bellathedisenchanted : Thanks, well I might be getting more precise in this chapter and the next ones…

Now on with the second chapter !

"We need help, someone help him," Tus roared in his best command voice and diligently some of Dastan's soldiers gathered to take their fallen comrade to the Persian encampment so that the healers could look after his wound. They used a makeshift gurney, to transport him without straining the wound too much. Bis had materialized seemingly out of nowhere and the worry on his face seemed to indicate that he regretted his earlier outburst about Dastan getting them all killed with his silly plans and disobeying orders. He felt as if he had provoked god. With slumped shoulders he followed the soldiers taking the prince to the camp, berating himself for letting his friend down. He should have been at his side, like he had always been in combat, like Dastan had been the fateful one day long ago. Instead he had been strolling around looking for some possible gift of homage he knew Dastan would be asked to provide as compensation for his earlier actions. No one crossed Garsiv or even Tus without paying for it.

Unnoticed a person sood high above on a balcony observing the whole scene displayed below. Tamina couldn't clearly hear the words that were said, but something important seemed to happen down there. The Persians had fought amongst themselves. The clashing sounds of their scimitars had been perceptible. _Perhaps the gods had finally decided to intervene? If the Persians killed themselves, the hands of the Alamutians would remain pure. Hopefully the dagger was safe on its way to the secret temple_… She knew Asoka would take care of that. He was the most dedicated amongst the guardians, that was the reason she had chosen him to fulfil this dangerous mission. _May the gods have mercy with the persons getting in his way_… An angry cry recalled her attention back downwards. One of the leaders was launching himself at one of the soldiers, who had his back turned towards him, at least that was what she deducted from their clothing.

"True Persians, both brutal and without honour. Treacherous cowards," she muttered and turned to get back into the throne room. Soon those preposterous barbarians would get there and make their demands, but she was prepared to receive them! She would die before she would accept any of their demands! Now that the dagger was safe on its way, she had no reason to submit. So she calmly settled herself on the throne waiting for the events to come… but nothing happened until two hours later. The doors finally opened to reveal a very distressed Asoka, whom she had thought safely en route to the hidden temple. Even years of training didn't help her hide her surprise as she gasped. Her always composed and serene face now clearly mirrored the shock she felt. _How was it possible?_ _What had happened? _The unanswered questions colliding in her head made it impossible for her to speak up.

"Your Highness, a great disgrace has befallen our city," he tried to catch his breath as he knelt down before the throne head bowed low in shame and despair. "The Persians… they have stolen the sacred dagger… One of them stopped me and during our fight he managed to cut it from the protecting purse… Now he has it in his possession… "

Closing her eyes, Tamina sighed. _So much for being saved_… the gods were punishing her already for the thoughts she had had before… Rapidly she considered the situation. _What were her options?_ She had to get the dagger back and to safety by all means. That was her sacred duty, her destiny. An idea suddenly popped up, "Would you recognize the man?" "Definitely yes, Your Highness. I could find him anywhere." Asoka sighed, _he had disappointed his leader, he had failed to accomplish the sacred mission entrusted to him_. _His punishment would probably be severe. A guardian wasn't allowed to fail! His family too would have to bear the consequences. They would be banned from the Holy City condemned to a life of misery all because of him_. He was angry at the man responsible for this, but even more at himself for being so feeble.

"You will come back here, after your arm has been tended to by our healers…"

Only now the man seemed to realize that something was wrong with it. He had been running on adrenaline during the battle and in his haste to warn the princess he had paid no heed to the state that he was in. His clothes dishevelled and partially torn, unfit to be worn in front of the High Priestess adding to is failure and underlining it making it visible for every person present here. Now that the princess had addressed it, the pain caught up with him. "No… I have more information… I've discreetly followed the thief… He's the one they call the Lion of Persia, the third son of King Sharaman… and his own uncle tried to kill him, because he accused him of being a traitor to Persia and his family…"

Understanding dawned on the princess. _That vizier must have had some knowledge of Alamuts hallowed secrets. If anyone else knew, they were in great danger…_ "And where are those men now?" Tamina demanded aloud. Her voice cold and imperative. Her bearing now that of a true leader again.

"The vizier has been killed and the other Persian is fighting for his life in the Persian encampment…"

_Perhaps the dagger was safe then_, some of the weight had just been lifted from her heart. _If the Persian was still in the possession of dagger, he probably had it amongst his belongings, like some vile war trophy_… Tamina snorted in disgust. "Those illiterate camel-riders!"

Asoka was still leaning heavily on his good arm while kneeling at her feet. His uninjured hand balled into a fist at Taminas outburst. The pain coursing through his body growing to almost unbearable levels.

"You must go now. I will need you later…"

_So all I have to do is get the dagger back from the Persian … We'll see…_

The golden light cast by the declining sun bathed the whole scene in a warm glow. It was almost time now for the evening rituals, so Tamina decided to leave for the High Temple. Perhaps the gods would inspire her a solution. After all they had made sure the thief was promptly punished…


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Thanks for the wonderful reviews. They make my day, so feel free to continue ;). Sorry for those who are waiting for Dastan, he'll be back soon, don't worry… Definitely Tamina is fun to write, but getting in the others heads is good too… Doing my best here to keep story, grammar and vocabulary up to your expectations… and now on with the show… Have a nice read!

Alerted by a messenger, the healers were already expecting the arrival of the prince and they had prepared whatever herbs and potions they thought would be useful to treat him. Tus and Garsiv had retired to Tus' tent, both of them pacing, digesting what had transpired between Nizam and Dastan, trying to use some of the up pent energy. Tus was fingering his ever present beads and Garsiv was gripping the gilt of his sword so hard it made his knuckles gleam white. Doing so reminded him of Dastans good-natured comment from the evening before the battle. Briefly a small smile graced his lips at the thought. It soon gave way to a scowl as he thought again about what had happened earlier. _Not this time_, he thought, _I should have done as usual and Dastan's life wouldn't be hanging by a thread now_. Anger made him kick a vase standing there in his way.

Tus was preoccupied by similar thought – _If only he had been a bit faster in his reactions_… _He could have prevented the outcome_.

His musings were interrupted by one of the guards, who ushered in one of the healers. He entered the tent and waited patiently for the princes to acknowledge his presence. It took Tus some time to notice him. "Speak. What are your findings? What can you tell me?" He fired the questions at the waiting man, before he could remind himself of his rank and the annoying but necessary decorum going with it. He rarely allowed his emotions to run free, although behind his mask there was often a raging storm. His beads allowed him to canalize the superfluous energy and to put some order into his thoughts.

Surprised by his brothers outburst Garsiv had stopped mid-stride, turned and stood now facing the old man too. Both princes held their breath in expectation without even noticing it.

"My lord, I have news to report. Prince Dastan has been tended to and the dagger wound is not as dangerous as it seemed. No vital organs have been touched. He lost consciousness mainly because of the blood loss and exhaustion from the battle… "

Relief washed over Tus and Garsiv as they heard the soothing words of the old man. "So prince Dastan will recover fast?" Tus' eyes nervously searched for confirmation on the older man's face, but he seemed to hold back something. They watched him struggle with what he had to tell, anxiety flooding their minds with each passing second.

"My lord, I honestly can not tell…" "Are you out of your mind? Why are you here if you don't know how to do your job?" Garsivs temper was getting the best of him. In two short strides, he had moved across the tent and grabbed the physician by the front of his robe. The healer had paled as he had felt his feet almost leave the ground, his lips moving as if in prayer but no sound came out.

"Garsiv…" Tus grabbed his brother by the shoulder, effectively keeping him form manhandling the poor man. "Let him speak freely…" "Be assured, you'll not be harmed in any way!" Tus managed to calm the healer, who anxiously nodded, still not too sure about how he was to deliver the second part of his message now that he had been a direct witness to the quick temper of the middle prince. He had been chosen because he was the most skilled both in the way of healing and of speaking. At the court of Persia this was quite the useful skill, because the leaders had a quick temper and a loose sword to go with it. Always ready either to pay with gold or with steel, depending on the news they got.

"What more do you have to say?" Garsiv asked releasing the robe he had kept tightly gripped, thus freeing his victim. The healer rubbed his chest before answering. "Well… we have been able to treat the stabbing wound properly. It will probably leave a scar, that can't be avoided. Our treasured ancient knowledge has allowed us to keep the infection at bay, but…"

"Speak! What else is there?" Garsiv yelled, unable to keep his calm. "My sword will unlock your tongue…" The grip of his hand on his sword tightened visibly.

Trembling, the man looked frantically from Garsiv to Tus finding comfort in the gaze of neither of them. "It seems as if lord Nizam wanted to make sure to get rid of his enemies… the dagger might have been poisoned … Unfortunately the weapon is nowhere to be found…" his voice trailed off and he fell to his knees with a deep sigh hoping these weren't the last words he was to speak in his life…

Both Tus and Garsiv briefly closed their eyes upon hearing the words. Their relief had been short-lived and it seemed foolish now… "You may go now and don't you dare come here again with more bad news!" Garsiv hissed between clenched teeth. Stumbling to his feet the man fled the tent, not believing his luck to survive this confrontation.

The two remaining men took some time to digest what they had just been told. It was evident that there was nothing they could do to help their youngest brother and they had still to do some damage control concerning Nizam's treacherous plans. Tus was on his way to the princess ruling the Holy City, when Dastan had interrupted him, exposing the scheme that had them all fooled. Tus replayed in his mind the council that had taken place the evening before. He remembered well how Dastan had tried to prevent this attack, as if he had some knowledge that only he was privy to. He had reminded them that their goal had been to subdue the warlord Kosh and not to attack a pacific community. King Sharaman had indeed given them orders to avoid Alamut on their journey and to get to Koshkhan, whose army was raiding Persian cities at almost regular intervals causing great damage.

His father was giving him more and more responsibility to prepare him to step up to the throne. Until now he hadn't ever disobeyed his orders and he thought his father was rather pleased with his commanding skills. That was the reason why he hadn't led himself the Persian army against Kosh, but had instead made a spiritual retreat to the eastern palace, as he was accustomed to do every year around this period.

Tus wasn't too fond of praying and asking divine advice, he preferred his beads as Garsiv preferred his sword. Dastan instead used to listen to their father and often he tried his best to follow his counsel. Dastan… who was now fighting for his life, because of their uncle… _The gods want to punish us for our sacrilegious raid on Alamut_… He had to find a way to appease them and to get out of this delicate situation. First of all, he had to convince princess Tamina to accept an alliance between their two realms; an alliance that would at the same time reassure Persia of Alamut's loyalty and keep possible assailants at bay, now that the millenary walls had been breached… The Persian army couldn't camp forever at the doors of the city and to leave it without offering any protection whatsoever was out of the question… _Form an alliance? How?_ He couldn't simply march into the throne room and propose to the princess, could he? If the stories he had heard about her were only half way true she would simply refuse, preferring death to marriage. Not that he could blame her… he knew fairly well how it was to be married for political reasons… Garsiv was far too impulsive to manage a person like the Alamutian ruler. Dastan would perhaps have succeeded in taming her, but he was in no condition to go through a proposal, not to speak of a wedding ceremony so this wasn't an option… He could no longer wait, he had to make an apparition before the princess and her council. They must have been wondering at the delay already… As he turned to leave the tent, Garsiv broke out of his musings and followed him. They hadn't made it out of the encampment when a messenger arrived galloping at full speed only to slide to a stop mere centimetres from them. As he got down from his foaming horse, he announced king Sharaman's arrival for the next day.

_So much for going to meet the princess_…

Tus let out a sigh. He wasn't fooling himself; his father wouldn't compliment him on his war tactics or even on his management of the Amalut fiasco! He would probably get the dressing down for his incapacity to follow his fathers orders. But that could not be helped now! He would face the king and take responsibility, show that he was able to hold his position and assume whatever the consequences of his actions…

The next hours, he was busy organizing the campaign against Koshkhan that had been their initial target. The Persian army had withdrawn outside the walls of the Holy City, making sure to leave without making more damage than had already been done. The men had been happy to get back to the camp and were now resting, feasting and waiting for their next orders. Sitting around the campfires they were discussing the events of the day, from the attack at dawn and the brave, almost reckless, actions of prince Dastan and his men to the treacherous attack of their vizier Nizam, who had always seemed so loyal and dedicated to their King Sharaman. They were wondering, listening attentively to the words of those who had directly witnessed that cowardly action.

Meanwhile there was one part of the camp where silence reigned, the men here were in no mood to indulge in whatever festivities, not while their leader was fighting for his life in his tent. Bis sat next to Dastans bed, watching with growing worry as his best friend seemed to detach himself more and more from this world as the healers buzzed around him like a swarm of bees, poking and prodding… In the beginning the prince had reacted to their continuous touches, but now he was simply lying there with no reaction at all… He seemed to have turned into some stone statue were it not for the perspiration on his brow. Bis's mind drifted… _- You won't be happy until you get us all killed! – Ah! Wonderful speech Bis! Rousing!_ The words echoed in his mind. He couldn't help thinking of the jabs they had exchanged earlier that day… What a difference between then and now… What would he give to take his friends place… but that wasn't possible… Dastan had helped him so often, saved him from the streets as a child, from death in countless battles… and now… In moments like this it would be useful if one could turn back time like in the tales of old.

The healers had withdrawn into a corner of the tent and seemed to be discussing what they would do next if the animated gestures were something to go by. It were those that had caught Bis' attention and a frown crossed his face. They looked like they were unsure about what they should do… He didn't like their facial expressions. They reeked of defeat and acceptance as if they had given up every hope to help…

With a sigh the oldest of the three stepped out of the tent and panic gripped Bis' heart. _What was happening? This must be a bad dream?_ He wished he could pinch himself to wake up and to see his friend laughing at his antics like always.


	4. Chapter 4

Oops! I think I misplaced every ones favourite character… Wait let's see, where have I seen him last time?... Nah, just joking.(I promise) He'll be back soon in chapter 6 probably… If I can manage it I'll post some more chapters this WE…

As always thanks for the reviews.

to Woffles92: Thanks Garsiv is such fun to write. I think he didn't have enough to say in the movie.

to bellathedisenchanted: Nope, Tus won't. I'll take care of it ;)

And now on for a small chapter, but the next one will be longer…

Azam - the healer- stopped at the tent of prince Tus. He needed a brief moment to brace his courage, before facing the storm head on.

Tus was pacing restlessly across his tent again, Garsiv had left earlier feeling the need to busy himself with some mind-numbing task… he had never been good at the waiting game. Tus' patience was wearing thin too, it had been hours since he had heard from his youngest brother. He was debating whether he should send for news or wait some more, afraid of what news he would get. Angry at his own lack of decision, he stomped in direction of the entry to call for some servant – at the very moment he reached for the tissue, it opened and he saw who he had been looking for – a healer and the most skilled one nonetheless… The man flinched at the hopeful expression that briefly flickered across the prince's worried face. He knew he wasn't carrying the expected good news… "So?" demanded the crown prince. "My lord, I have come to report on our findings… We have successfully tended to prince Dastan's wounds, mostly minor cuts that stemmed from the battle. The stab-wound per se isn't life-threatening as the dagger has been deflected by the leather protections. It is a deep flesh wound – painful, but not dangerous. It might take some time to heal tough, because of its location. The blade was definitely poisoned.. Alas, if we don't know what kind of draught was used, we can simply administer all of the remedies known to work on that kind of wound, then it will be up to the gods to let the prince come back…"

As the explanations droned on, Tus' anger and frustration grew. "Are you out of your mind? How do you dare show up with such unsatisfying news?"

The guards outside flinched as they heard their master yell inside , glad his ire wasn't directed at them… The healer had thrown himself at his lord's feet to implore his mercy…

"Get out of my sight, if my brother dies, so do you…" The tone was merciless, leaving no doubt on the veracity of the statement.

The healer rapidly crept out of the tent backwards. Gone was all ritual decorum going with his function. He was desperate to get some distance between him and the mad man inside… He was sure they would all be dead by the next day, if he hadn't misjudged the symptoms the prince had shown… He hurried down the alley towards the tent Dastan was treated in.

The night promised not to be a calm one, the prince had begun to run a fever that didn't budge with any of the ancient potions. His condition seemed to worsen by the hour. At first they had tried to cool his body down with damp cloth, but it hadn't helped at all. Now he was delirious and they marvelled at the incoherent words he uttered… Bis had kept watch all night, witness to his friend's distress. As dawn approached the prince seemed to calm down, his normally strong body weakened by the raging fire that burnt him from the inside. Bis had allowed himself to doze off sitting in a chair near the entrance of the tent, the healers were keeping watch, so he had finally given in to exhaustion.

He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of the trumpets announcing… the imminent arrival of the king? Hastily he got to his feet, shooting worried looks towards Dastan's still form. Apparently there had been no change since the night before. Even if at the moment the prince was unconscious, his traits weren't relaxed. His normally tanned skin had changed to a waxy grey, his hair was matted to his front by rivulets of sweat and his muscles seemed tense.

What would be the king's reaction? Bis wondered. Would he be the leader visiting a heroic soldier wounded in battle, or would he simply allow himself to be Sharaman, the father? In all the years Bis had accompanied Dastan, he had alternatively seen the one or the other depending on the situation. But things had never gotten as serious before…

The healers scurried around, they too had been startled by the alarm and were probably worrying about their fate. Bis snorted, his disdain clearly showing in his features. He stepped out into the morning sun. His mind was set. The nights sleep had been useful. He was of no use to Dastan if he kept only sitting there, he needed to do something…

Meanwhile King Sharaman had arrived at the command post and right now he was occupied with prince Tus and his strategic talents. Not able to control his temper, which had been simmering during the long forced ride through the desert, he burst out. "What did you think you were doing by attacking a Holy City? And with my army I entrusted you with? Not only have you disobeyed your king's orders, but you have put the Persian Empire in an impossible situation! What do you think our allies will do when they hear you desecrated the walls of an innocent city by bringing weapons to its most sacred place, the High Temple?" The Alamutians in said High Temple could hear his yelling, Tus was sure of that, judging by the ringing in his ears.

"Yes, Father I know I haven't done you justice and rest assured that I will do everything I can to redeem myself. Thanks to Dastan…" he paused for a moment thinking about his little brother, who paid his, Tus', mistakes with such a high price. Sighing, he continued… "The damages to the outer walls are limited and we can offer our craftsmen to re-build what's been compromised. We can have our soldiers train the Alamutian troops so that they'll be able to defend themselves in the future…"

"Speaking of Garsiv and Dastan… where are they? Haven't they heard their King has arrived… ? a still very irate Sharaman interrupted him brusquely…"

"Father, you know Garsiv. He is probably out in the field organizing troop movements as we speak… We have to defend the city, now that its defences are down by our… my fault. As far as Dastan is concerned…" Tus paused, preparing for what he was about to reveal. The memory of his little brother lying seemingly lifeless on his bed made him shiver. "Beloved Father, I have bad news… Our uncle Nizam attacked him treacherously and wounded him with a poisoned dagger, before I managed to intervene and protect him as I should have…" The more Tus explained, the more Sharaman grew pale and by the end of his tale, the older man needed to grab a nearby chair for support, his knuckles gleaming white by the sheer force of his grip. "Nizam? My very own brother…?" he muttered. "How can it be? All these years… he had everything: love, respect, a family… The greatest gifts on earth bestowed upon man. How was it that it wasn't enough to him?" Sharaman unknowingly echoed his son's words…

Tus relived the scene that took place the day before as his father spoke. "Dastan revealed his treachery and he couldn't stand the defeat, so he cowardly attacked Dastan from behind… and I had to kill him," Tus repeated, seemlingly lost in his memories… "Please forgive me Father."

Suddenly as if comprehension had only dawned now on him, Sharaman asked: "What about Dastan? Where is he? He isn't…" his voice drifted off as he refused to speak the dreaded words aloud. "No, but our healers seem desperate. Apparently they can't find a proper antidote..."

Tus felt at loss to reassure his father, who seemed to have aged far beyond years upon hearing these devastating news… "Take me to see him… I need to see him…"

As they prepared to leave the tent Garsiv entered and knelt before his king.

"Ah, my son, always your hand on the hilt of your sword…" the king sighed. "Those who live by the sword, die by it too," he mumbled to himself. "Follow us…" Garsiv flinched as he heard the exact words Dastan had said to him almost on the same spot. Was it only a day before? _NO, not always._ Garsiv thought bitterly. The one moment he should have been at the ready to protect his brother, he hadn't been… and now, because of him, his little brother was fighting for his life.


	5. Chapter 5

All the three of them stood in shock as they saw Dastan's limp body lying on the bed, so uncharacteristically still. Neither one of them had seen him that way before, ever, not even when he was really sick as a small boy… He was always so full of energy, laughter and banter that his present state pained them, but even deprived of his life force Dastan remained the perfect example of a warrior at his best. His tall figure would never seem frail not even in the throes of death itself…

The healers fell to their knees, bowing their heads to the ground as they noticed their king standing in the midst of them. He seemed to be waiting for explanations, so Azam tried to give him all the details that he could about the wounds, the treatment and their success, or rather the lack of it. Sharaman interrupted his ramblings with a gesture of his hand and then he bid everyone to leave.

"I need some time with him, please wait outside the tent."

At Tus' and Garsivs inquiring looks, he invited them to stay. "Please tell me, my sons, what happened here? I send my most trusted men, members of my own family, on a mission to defeat an old enemy of the Persian Empire and you end up with your uncle almost murdering Dastan and you killing your uncle. How am I to understand that?" a very distressed Sharaman said. The news of the treason of his brother had been almost unbelievable. _Had he not saved his life a long time ago? Had he not been his most trusted advisor?_ Tus felt he was the one that should answer his father's questions. After all, he was the oldest of the brethren and he had decided to raid the Holy City, even if it was upon Nizam's urging…

"Father, on the evening before we attacked this city, our uncle presented us with a spy, who testified he had seen numerous well hidden weapon forges in the city. As a proof he showed us a crate full of fine armoury made of excellent steel. The arrow tips were similar to those that killed one of Garsivs horses during one of the raids of Koshkhan. So after hearing everyone's opinion I decided it was wise to attack, to cut off Koshkhan from his supplies. This would have given us a strategic advantage and probably saved us lots of soldiers. Dastan objected that this wasn't the mission you had sent us on… but Nizam had very convincing arguments… The security of the Persian Empire was at stake, so I decided to lead a pre-emptive strike at dawn. Dastan has played a major role by breaching the formerly impenetrable eastern gate and has thus spared the life of many men both Persian and Alamutian."

Upon hearing those words Sharaman's face softened as he let his eyes wander to Dastan. "Ah, my son…" he sighed deeply, "always taking chances trying to save others without regard for your own safety…" his mind wandered off to a day long past, a day when his family hadn't known treachery, the day a street rat had become a prince of Persia for saving an innocent boy… A smile tugged at his lips as the images of that time played before his inner eye. He reluctantly shrugged them off as more important tasks claimed his attention now.

"Tus, I trust you have spoken to the Princess already? You know it is your duty to make amends for the destructions and damage you caused to this city…"

"Father, I made sure to evacuate our soldiers as soon as Dastan had revealed our uncle's treacherous plans… but due to the attack, I haven't been able to talk to the princess or even her council. Then we heard of your arrival. It seemed more appropriate to wait…"

"As always Tus, you step down from your responsibility! A king cannot afford to do so, he must always take action, even if he doesn't like it… It is his sacred duty! We'll request an audience for tomorrow morning so don't be late! You may leave now!" with a dismissing wave he sent them out too.

For hours, Sharaman remained seated next to his son's prone body letting his thoughts wander freely. He had to think of a solution, a political one, that would satisfy both sides: Alamut and Persia. This foolish course of events wouldn't sit well with the allies of Persia, they would be suspicious from now on and watch closely every action that was to be taken. He had to regain their trust. And an even bigger problem remained… He had heard of the High Priestess for she was known to be a fierce opponent as a ruler. He was aware that she wouldn't accept simple apologies and she wouldn't let herself get coaxed into some one-sided plan f it wasn't to the advantage of her city. Then there was Dastan. _What had the healers said?_ They didn't find a suitable antidote? _Perhaps… yes… perhaps…_ Tomorrow he would try and get things right again.

During the night Sharaman stayed in Dastans tent, taking the short naps his worried mind would allow him, checking from time to time that his son was still breathing and finally at sun dawn his mind was set on what he had to do…

Late the evening before a messenger had presented himself, he had asked for an audience for the King and his sons… This promised to be the occasion Tamina had been waiting for. Perhaps she could get the dagger back at that moment? The gods seemed to be on Alamut's side after all… Tamina pondered.

The council had gathered in the throne room with her and everyone was waiting for the arrival of the Persians. "Late, that was evident, those desert rats have no manners whatsoever," snorted one of the elder.

At that precise moment the doors opened on a guard the creaking noise of the protesting wood silencing the crowd. All the heads turned expectantly towards the large portal. The king entered, followed by Tus and Garsiv and almost immediately the muttering started again. Tamina quickly scanned the daggers at their belts, none of them matched the Dagger of Time._ Where was the third son?_ She felt confirmed in her idea that it was in the possession of the youngest prince.

"Your Highness, …"

The king who respectfully bowed before the throne claimed Tamina's attention. "I must ask forgiveness for my sons actions. They had absolutely no right to breach your city. Rest assured that Persia will compensate Alamut for all the damage sustained. Our craftsmen will set all their skills at your service. The materials needed for reconstruction will be provided. May I propose that in the mean time a small part of our army remain stationed here to protect the Holy City from eventual attacks?"

Tamina inclined her head as a sign of acknowledgement to the kings words. "You must understand, King Sharaman, that your sons have done great harm… The walls have been breached. Houses destroyed. That can be repaired. The lives lost are forever forfeit. But more importantly still, our city is no longer pure! You've brought weapons to its very heart. The High Temple is desecrated … we'll have to fulfil purifying rituals to appease the wrath of the Gods."

"We'll do everything in our power to repair and repay the wrongs that have been done." The king gestured for his sons to step forward. "Tus and Garsiv here, my two eldest sons will immediately leave to accomplish their initial mission, thus they will banish the danger Koshkhan and his troops could be for your unguarded city."

Tus obediently turned to leave, but Garsiv croaked: "But Father, our brother Dastan…"

"Quiet!" The Kings voice had become very intimidating. "Do as you're told for once! I'll tolerate no discussions."

With that Garsiv bowed too and before turning a withering look swept all the members of the Council, lingering especially on Tamina. The exchange hadn't escaped Tamina's attention. Was this the opportunity she had been waiting for? Taking a deep breath, she spat. "Yes, tell me about the Lion of Persia. Hasn't he deemed necessary to apologize for raiding my city? Or how do I have to understand his absence?" Anger and disdain laced every single word.

Sharaman's face paled at that. "You must know that he's been seriously wounded and he is in the hands of our healers as we speak…" There, that was the opening she had been waiting for… "May I offer the help of Alamut's physicians as a sign for our good will?" Protests were heard coming from the ranks of the Council. "As you may know the Holy City has been renowned for their skills for thousand years…" her voice trailed off. _Would the king take the bait?_ Subconsciously she held her breath.

"Your Highness' offer is greatly appreciated…" The king bowed as a sign of his approval.

"There is one condition however! The prince must be brought into the palace, our healers aren't allowed to leave the City!" _It wasn't true but the Persian wasn't supposed to know, was he?_

He bowed his head again. "I, King Sharaman, leader of the Persian Empire, most gratefully accept your offer. May I only ask for one favour?" Tamina raised an inquiring eyebrow waiting for what was to come… "May I stay with him?" "I can't deny the request of a father to stay at the side of his son. You may accompany him and stay at the palace as long as he'll be here. You may bring your servants and personal guards too." With that she got up and turned to leave. A satisfied smirk settling on her lips.

"May Ormazd protect you for your kindness," the old king said.

"Don't thank me, your son isn't safe yet…" With that she left.


	6. Chapter 6

Sharaman immediately went back to his camp to prepare for Dastans transfer to the palace. The Persian healers weren't pleased because they felt their skills were doubted. On the other hand they were relieved to be rid of the problem the poisoning had given them. Their life would no longer be at stake.

It didn't take much time to get the prince ready. No special precautions were needed, as his wound had been properly dressed. After a final check, he was simply transferred into a litter outside the tent. Two soldiers were to accompany him to guard his chambers.

At the same moment Sharaman prepared to leave the tent Bis entered it almost running. He had been busying himself around the camp to distract his thoughts from the prince's state, but everywhere he went, he was reminded of him, so finally he tried to drown his sorrows with some wine. Distracted as he was, he almost missed two men discussing the imminent departure of the king and his son. It took some time for realization to set in. _They were leaving the camp!_ He jumped up and almost knocked over the table he had been sitting at. Shouts of protest could be heard as he tripped over a group of resting soldiers. Some of them had thoroughly doused themselves with wine and because they weren't sober any more this could be taken as serious offence. Bis didn't stop to apologize his only goal being to cover the distance to the tent his friend was in.

As Bis entered it, he stopped just in time to drop to his knees at the feet of the mighty Sharaman. "My lord, may… may I ask for permission to stay with prince Dastan?" he stammered, his voice slightly slurred by the drinks he had indulged. But then King Sharaman had always had an intimidating effect on him. Raising his head, he saw the king looking at him with a strange look, a mix between amusement and thankfulness.

"Bis, you will stay at my sons side. Go, hurry and join him…"

Bowing low, Bis turned and made a run to join Dastan's escort, leaving the king to wonder if he shouldn't have adopted that young man too… He was thankful for the friendship and loyalty Bis shared with Dastan. He had made Dastan's adoption so much easier… That is from the moment he had been allowed into the palace.

The first days had been very hard on the new prince as he had been accustomed to roam free wherever his feet took him. Now he was confined to the rooms reserved for the princes. They were huge and there were lots of apartments to explore, but it wasn't enough. Dastan had felt like a bird in a golden cage. So he took every opportunity to join his friends in the streets. The royal preceptor charged to teach him was rapidly tired of his escapades and after every single one burdened him with punishments and long speeches on how a prince had to behave. Nothing helped. So he complained to the King, who simply decided to take Bis in. He remembered well how Dastan had protected the young boy in the marketplace. They were almost like brethren. After that the youngest prince had become more manageable. Both had grown up together and Bis had become Dastans right hand as both of them came of age. It had been a good choice. Hopefully the decision to move to the palace was a good one too.

With that thought he mounted his horse to lead the convoy to the Holy City. The welcome in the city wasn't a warm one as the Alamutians remained suspicious of their newfound allies, but the healers filed into the room immediately after their patients arrival to examine and take care of him as they had been ordered to.

Sharaman was led to adjacent apartments that had been prepared for him. He couldn't help but marvel at the beautifully carved white marble halls, at the delicate fabric of the tapestries covering the walls. He truly never had been in such a beautiful place. Had it been damaged or even destroyed, it would have been irreplaceable. It really had been a gift of the great Ormazd that Dastan had stopped the attack in time. He couldn't understand what had happened during the battle and how Dastan had discovered the treacherous plans of Nizam. Hopefully he would be able to explain once he was better. In the meanwhile he, Sharaman, would try to protect this city as best as he could. First thing in the morning, he would ask to speak to the council and the princess about the repairs that needed to be done.

Bis stayed with Dastan and observed the work of the healers as they assessed the wounds. They changed the dressings again as the wound seemed to show first signs of infection. The fever was spiking again. Dastan was becoming restless, turning and tossing. He was caught in a desperate fight and until now loosing it. His flushed skin was covered in sweat from the exertion. Incoherent words about sandglasses and time turning daggers escaped his dry lips. Bis desperately wished he could be of some use to his friend, instead of feeling like a helpless child. He was pacing, turning in circles like a caged animal. Earlier, just after their arrival, he had busied himself with the weapons of his friend. Cleaning them had occupied his mind for some time. After he had finished he had put them on a nearby table. He always took care of Dastan's weapons keeping them ready for use. As a soldier he knew fairly well this could be vital in the next battle. But even as this task came to an end one of the physicians approached him and waited patiently until his attention was drawn to him.

"My lord, would it be possible to examine the weapon that has been used to inflict this wound? It could help us understand which poison was used …" Happy to be of some use finally Bis nodded and set off to inform the king and start his search for the requested object.

Sharaman returned to Dastans apartments. Bis' news had deepened his worry that had somewhat been appeased by the reassurances of the healers that had been waiting for them at their arrival at the palace. The first glimpse he got of his son thrashing on his sickbed wasn't one to make him more comfortable. Doubt kept nagging at his mind. _Had he taken the right decision?_ The healers kept bustling around, using potions and pastes to treat the battered body of the youngest prince. The strong scent of incense filled the room.

It wasn't till much later that day that Dastan calmed down, exhausted by the battle his body was fighting. He wouldn't be able to go on for much longer. Everyone was aware of that. Hopefully Bis would recover the infamous dagger that had been the cause of this. Sharaman settled at Dastans side as the day was slowly declining over Alamut.

Feeling the need to get some fresh air the king walked out on the balcony. The sight was breathtaking. The dying sun bathed the domes of the palace and the temples in a golden light. Everything was peaceful. The muffled sounds of the city below didn't quite reach up here. Sharaman let out a sigh and with it sent a prayer heavenwards. His brother's foul play had been bad news, but it was even harder to get on with the idea that his plan would most likely cost Dastans life. It would be very difficult to uphold the balance between Tus and Garsiv without him. His presence had been a god-sent gift from the day he was admitted to the palace and into the royal family. Tus and Garsiv's rivalry had ceased as both had watched the new addition with curiosity and a growing sense of dread, as it seemed to threaten their position in the king's heart. But Dastan had managed to get them to accept him and he always succeeded in deflecting Tus' doubts and Garsivs flaring temper. Sharaman had never once regretted taking the boy in. _How would the Empire go on without the bond between those three? _

The night had begun to creep up the white walls as he decided to go back inside to sit some more with his son… The healers had left the chambers for the night and some lamps had been lit bathing everything in a warm, comforting light. The lamps cast their flickering shadows on the ornate walls, bringing to life the represented figures. The king admired the room his son had been given. The furniture was exquisite and yet simple. Even Dastan with his Spartan habits would like it, he mused.

As he sat down, he had the distinct feeling of being watched, but even as he turned to scan the room he didn't see anyone so he settled down with a sigh.

Tamina could clearly see his mask fall and worry marking his features as he watched his son's prone form. She felt a stab of jealousy at seeing how loved and cared for the infamous Lion of Persia was. Everyone seemed to like him. She had heard the Persian guards at the door express their worry as she had passed them by earlier on her way to the temple.

The rooms that had been assigned to the Persian delegation were those destined to foreign dignitaries and they had secret passages leading to them permitting to observe and hear everything occurring inside. The intricate carvings on the walls allowed the person behind them to watch the whole room and to hear every sound made inside without being seen themselves.

Curiosity had drawn the princess here. She wanted to see what was so special about this prince, this thief. From where she was standing she could barely make out his features as they were shadowed by the curtains of the bed, so she decided to leave… but even as she turned she could hear someone speaking – Sharaman was talking to his son. Fascinated she stood, listening… The king was remembering the day the prince became a prince…. – _Wait, what_? Tamina's eyes widened in surprise as she leaned in. _The prince hadn't always been a prince? How was that?_ As Sharaman talked on, he unveiled the unlikely event to the princess, who didn't miss a single word. After he had finished, she decided to leave. She needed some fresh air to digest what she had overheard. Her path took her to the gardens where she always felt free of her burden as keeper of the dagger. This time the magic didn't work. Her thoughts kept turning around in her head making her almost dizzy.

_So this prince wasn't of royal blood? He had been adopted? How strange those Persians were… How was it possible? And then, he had breached impenetrable walls, conquered her city and the precious Dagger of Time. At some point he had stopped his uncle's plans. Why? The gods must have had a plan…_ The thoughts kept churning in her head. She decided that she needed to know more about him. _His destiny had to be linked to the dagger somehow, but that didn't make sense, did it? He was Persian, wasn't he?_ At least her mission was clear, get the dagger back. This task was infinitely easier now that the prince was inside the palace and near the High Temple.

When she got back to Dastans apartments, the lights were out. Apparently the king had left for the night too. That made her task much easier. Through a hidden door, she slipped into the dark room careful not to make any noise. Taking a deep breath to steel her tingling nerves and calm her erratic heartbeat, she slowly made her way towards the table where all of the prince's weapons were displayed, meticulously cleaned and ready to take action again. Her hand slid along one of the twin blades. They were beautifully decorated, even in the dim moonlight she could distinguish the intricate carvings running along both blades. Much to her dismay she noticed that the dagger wasn't there… _Where else could it be?_ Her eyes darted from object to object as far as she could distinguish them in the twilight. Fear of discovery nagged at her nerves. What if someone came in just now? How would she explain her presence in this room at night and in the darkness? Her heartbeat picked up, every noise seemed to be amplified by the darkness of the night. Fear crept up her spine and made her skin tingle.

"No!" the strangled cry made her almost jump out of her skin, tense as she was. Frightened she turned in direction of the voice she had heard ready to counter her opponent. Instinctively her hand had closed on a small dagger lying on the table. As she turned she held it up ready to thrust it at her assailants throat. But there wasn't anyone behind her. "NO! I'm not letting you go!" the voice repeated on an even more desperate tone. Her eyes darted to the bed in the middle of the room. _The prince!_ He was plagued by nightmares. She approached the bed slowly, cautiously, careful not to stumble over anything in the dark. She couldn't clearly see his features, so she slightly bent over the bed. His brows furrowed, his expression tense and desperate, the prince looked far from peaceful in his agitated sleep. "Tamina!" The sheer desperation of the cry made her act without thinking. She put her hand on his shoulder in a calming gesture and apparently it worked. "Tamina?" The prince asked in a voice so full of hope that she couldn't help but answer. "Shhh! I'm here. Everything is ok." She settled herself down on the bed trying not to jostle him too much. As if sensing her presence, the prince calmed down, his breathing evening out. His sleep was deepening again. The speechless princess on the contrary was now wide-awake. _What was she doing? This wasn't what she had intended to do. Wait! How did he know her name? They had never met. At least not that she could remember… What if…? No way!_ She didn't want to continue that line of thinking. _How was he supposed to know of the dagger? No one could have told him? It couldn't be…?_

Her puzzled look wandered again towards the man lying on the bed, his face now as peaceful and relaxed, as it had been tense before. She couldn't help but admire the handsome features of the warrior that had invaded her city. While her gaze wandered towards the dressing that covered his chest a strange sensation made her feel at unease. She shouldn't be here… but even as she shifted her weight slightly to get up a hand shot out and grasped her wrist, trapping her effectively. She gasped, panic gripping her heart. Her gaze flew to the hand and from there to its owner. As she looked up in disbelief, she lost herself in the most amazing eyes she had ever seen. The look they bore was one of agony and despair, but soon their expression changed to disbelief and relief? Tamina could see all those feelings clearly mirrored in them and even something more.

Time seemed to have frozen as she sat there unable to move, but soon the eyes drifted close again, exhaustion taking its toll. The grip around her wrist loosened. Hurriedly she stood up and fled out of the room almost knocking over a very astounded Bis. As always he was checking in on the prince regularly, to make sure he was all right. It took him some time to recover from his surprise and as he looked down the hallway, he could only catch a glimpse of a cream coloured robe with gold embroidery disappearing around a corner. He hurried towards his best friends resting place, worried what he would find, but the prince seemed to rest peacefully judging by the regular rise and fall of his chest… Bis decided that he would keep a closer watch in case there were more unbidden visitors.

A few hours earlier, he had been able to recover the dagger Nizam had used to attack Dastan. A Persian soldier had found it discarded on the ground after the commotion and now he had been using it as stake at gambling. Bis had had to use all his gambling skills to get it back, because the suspicious soldier had refused to simply hand it over. He had immediately taken it to the healers, who had tried to determine the poison that had been used.

He had barely settled down to get some rest too as the doors flew open with a loud clang. One of the physicians hurried into the chambers with a small vial filled with some dark coloured potion. "He has to drink this at once," he panted, "perhaps it's not to late yet!" He must have run all the way to the chamber. With Bis' help they managed to make the prince swallow the disgusting liquid. "Now all we can do is wait…" The physician comfortably settled in a nearby chair and prepared himself for a long night. The same one Bis intended to occupy moments before. With a sigh, he settled on a pillow near the balcony instead. He had never been able to fully adjust to life inside palaces. Hopefully no one would disturb their nights sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Tamina arrived breathless at her own apartments, wondering about what had just happened and trying to understand her own confusing feelings. _Why had she felt so relieved when the prince had woken up?_ _He was a Persian by the gods! It was him that had doomed her city and herself by stealing the dagger!_ She settled on her bed to get some sleep with the conviction that her night would be a restless one. Effectively sleep eluded her as she turned and tossed, always hearing the desperate cry that had escaped the prince's lips and seeing those eyes swirling with emotions as they focused on her. There had been something much deeper that had accelerated her heart rate, but she couldn't pinpoint it precisely.

At dawn her maid found a very grumpy sleep deprived princess deep in thought and already wide awake pacing her room.

_It had been two days now since the dagger had disappeared, she had to find it. The Persian hadn't had the time to find a hiding place, had he? Where would she have put it if she had been in his position? Truth is, she had strictly no idea, but she wouldn't rest till she had it back. Even if she had to turn the palace upside down to find it_…

Tamina was occupied with the morning prayers in the temple when a servant announced that the king was asking for a private audience. _Probably about an alliance_, she thought. "Tell him I'll see him after the morning prayers." Shortly after the messenger had left she found one of the healers assigned to the Persian prince waiting for her attention. "What?" she snapped, irritated at being interrupted again. The old man flinched at her sharp tone. "Your Highness, we administered an antidote to the Persian last night, but so far we have no result yet. We have to wait," he said hurriedly after seeing her expectant look. She dismissed him, lost in her thoughts. _No result yet?_ She had to chuckle at that. _If only they knew…_ _no it was definitely better no one knew what had happened the night before_._ An unmarried princess sneaking around in rooms assigned to a man and at night to top it off? What would the council think of her_? At the thought a blush crept up her cheeks. Oh! Why hadn't she been told? Right, she had been hiding in the secret passages. Time was running fast, she needed a solution… preferably now, before the prince could leave with the dagger…

The sun was already set as Tamina worked her way to Dastans apartments again. The audience with King Sharaman had taken most of the day. It had been a verbal joust between the two of them and there had been no satisfying outcome. Tamina didn't want Persian troops stationed anywhere near the city of Alamut and the king refused to leave it unguarded. And so the discussions had droned on for hours and hours. The Persians weren't accustomed to have women opposing them. At least not headstrong ones like the Alamutian princess. As a result Tamina felt drained, but tonight she would take care of the dagger nonetheless. With baited breath she walked the secret passageways to reach the hidden space in the prince's chamber. Before starting her self imposed task, she wanted to make sure that no one was in there – except the Persian. Spying through the intricate lace of the ornaments, she could see that the room looked empty. A lamp sitting on a bedside table only dimly lighted it. At least tonight she would see what she was doing. The risk of stumbling over objects would be inexistent. Quickly she opened the secret door and slid into the room, pausing immediately to make sure no one had heard the creaking. Slowly she made her way over to the bed where the prince lay. She stopped at the foot of it unsure about how to proceed. She listened to his breathing and was surprised to find it deep and relaxed, unlike her own. After last night's events, she had half expected him to be agitated again. After all nightmares tended to be recurrent. Hers were at least.

Berating herself for her silly thoughts she crouched down, her gaze not leaving the still form before her. The stab wound had been freshly dressed and the bandages shimmered in the pale moonlight. Tamina involuntarily found herself admiring the muscular chest and the strong arms, a sight that didn't very often cross her path among the guardians of the temple. She wondered how it would feel to be embraced by those arms, to feel protected and secure… - _Wait! Where was that coming from?_ She could feel her cheeks heating up. Confused she had to admit to herself that the Persian was indeed a handsome man, his face now serene and relaxed, even if it was still paler than it should be for a healthy person.

"Focus," she muttered to herself, "you have a task to fulfil!" She ran her hands along the bedside, fumbling for the hidden dagger. It had to be somewhere nearby. She was so taken by her mission that she didn't see the slight movement coming and almost jumped out of her skin as a hand clasped her wrist, again. Her eyes darted up to meet a pair of half-lidded blue ones studying her confusedly. "Tamina?" a hoarse voice called out. "What are you doing here? Where am I?" a clearly confused prince stammered. Setting himself up on the bed slowly, carefully, but without releasing her hand as if he feared she would vanish the moment he'd let her go he shook his head trying to clear the fog that surrounded his mind. _What had happened to him? What were the last events he remembered? There had been the Sandglass, the fight with his uncle… Tamina had died. _His gaze locked with hers a deep frown furrowing his brow. Ashamed he broke eye contact, averted his eyes. He had let her down. He had failed her. The emotions kept bubbling up inside his heart.

His gaze wandered to their hands. "I'll never let you go!" The sentence still echoed in his mind, but truth was he had and as a result she had died. That had been in the alternate time. Now, in this timeline, it had never happened.

With a sigh of relief he raised his eyes to take her in. In the moonlit chamber she almost seemed ethereal to him. While he was studying her every feature, she quirked an irritated eyebrow on him.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

At that a smile curled his lips. "Perhaps…"

Butterflies took flight inside her stomach. This couldn't be, she wasn't supposed to react that way. No guardian princess was. She had to gather her wits so she quickly pushed herself away from the bed trying to compose herself. The distance helped her to calm down.

"Prince Dastan, where's the dagger?" her voice sounded far too flustered to her own ears. Dastans smile morphed into a frown. _The dagger_? How could he forget the cursed thing? He tried to remember when he had last seen it. It had been… shortly before his uncle had attacked him. He had pushed it into his kamarband to protect it … _but where was it now?_ He quickly scanned the room and seeing Bis' bed roll in a corner he smirked. _Could it be?..._ He slid his hand under his pillows and almost immediately felt his fingers brush over the cool metal. Dear Bis, always helpful. A smile formed on his lips. He gripped it and showed it to the princess. Relief flooded her face.

_So the dagger was safe after all._ "Give it to me… I have to take it to its rightful place in the High Temple where it is protected."

Her voice was so cold, so distant, that it took Dastan some time to recall the fact that she wasn't the same person that he remembered from before. Nevertheless she needed to know. The danger was still present. "Tamina… Princess, I need to warn you. The Temple has been compromised."

"Don't you think I know that? It has been by you brutal and dishonest Persians!"

A sigh escaped Dastans lips. _How could he forget her temper?_

"But rest assured, we have already accomplished the purifying rituals," Tamina continued with a self satisfied smirk. _What did this Persian think?_ A snort escaped her lips. She knew perfectly well what had to be done, she was the High Priestess after all. Every guardian was aware of the fact that weapons weren't allowed up there. If protocol was breached the Temple had to be cleaned and the ritual oils had to be used.

"No… You don't understand… The dagger is in real danger. There is a traitor amidst your guardians. He secretly has joined and has been trained by the Hassansins. They were hired by my uncle to fulfil his plans and he still might try to steal it." He watched as disbelief and horror marred her beautiful face.

Utter shock froze Tamina. _How was it possible? The guardians and priests were carefully chosen and had to pass strenuous tests to be admitted to the sanctuary. If what the prince said was the truth then they were indeed in great danger. _ "And how would you, a Persian, know of this?" she snapped. _He had to be wrong! This nightmare couldn't happen, could it?_

Exasperated, Dastan threw his hands up in the air. He had forgotten how queer the princess could become. Past words echoed in his mind. _Please give me the patience not to kill her._ He had returned to the same point where he had been at the beginning of their journey. He had to explain her how he had gotten his knowledge and what had happened or else she wouldn't believe him. This would be a long night. He tried to settle in a more comfortable position hissing in pain as he strained his wound.

"I have to tell you a long story, so please, accommodate yourself, Your Highness," he said in a much more guarded tone. Tamina sat down at a secure distance with an expecting and defiant look.

That night Dastan told Tamina everything that had happened in the time that hadn't come to pass. Except for what had transpired between them especially during their return to Alamut moments before time had been rewound. He didn't want to make her think he would influence her decisions. He would content himself with the fact that she was well and alive, at least for now. In this lifetime she had no reason whatsoever to fall for him. No reason to trust him, yet. So he had to stick to the facts of their adventure and trust upon her cleverness. After all she was very well capable of voicing her own will as she had proven to him on numerous occasions during their quest.

The princess followed his every word, patiently waiting for him to continue every time he needed to pause, when his body screamed in agony for being forced to sit up so long. She had even tried to get him more comfortable by placing some pillows behind his back leaving him wondering if he might be wrong after all. Perhaps this Tamina wasn't that different from the person he'd come to… _love_? This realization warmed him inside. He wasn't alone. He had someone caring for him.

Somehow she must have succeeded to dispose the pillows more comfortably because when he woke up it was because of the sunrays tickling his face. He felt relaxed, although still very weak. Carefully he stretched his aching muscles. It would probably take some time to regain his strength, he mused as he relished in the warming sun. No brawls with Rostam in the near future. A smirk settled on his face. Bis would keep his allowances this time. With a contented sigh he relaxed. After all there wasn't anything he could do in his present state.

Something kept nagging at the back of his mind making it impossible to get back to sleep, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. So he simply laid back to wait till someone would come to look after him. – _Tamina! She had been in his room last night.!_ His eyes flew wide open to scan the room. He was alone. The princess must have left some time earlier no doubt to accomplish some complicated morning ritual. He settled comfortably back on the pillows to rest some more. After all he was supposed to do so and no one expected him to be up. Still he didn't drift back to sleep. An unbidden thought kept bothering him suddenly flashing bright before his inner eye. – _The Dagger! No! she wouldn't… Yes, she would!_ with a frustrated sigh, he searched under the pillows, but he already knew what he would find or rather not find – one cursed time-altering dagger! _Damn the stubborn princess!_ Anger flared up in his mind and he got up more gingerly than he should have, because the world spun mercilessly as he staggered to his feet. He stood for a moment, his eyes closed, willing for the dizziness to subside. Hastily, well as fast as his present condition would allow, he dressed, still fuming…

Thanks to all the readers and reviewers for their continued attention for this story. The update took me a bit longer due to real life interference. I hope the interaction between our two favourite characters has met your expectations, if so please don't be afraid to let me know. Next chapter will be up as soon as possible, because I'm sure you want to know what Tamina's up to?


	8. Chapter 8

Just as he reached for the door, it opened to reveal a tousled Bis, who froze mid stride mouth agape seeing Dastan up and ready to leave the room. It took him some time to get his mind around the idea that the prince was standing in front of him instead of lying delirious on his bed. Relief flooded him and he instinctively started to move forward to embrace his friend before stopping again dead in his tracks. Dastan didn't seem to notice him. Judging by his firm set jaw and by the withering look he caught, someone was in for the dressing-down of their lives…. and luckily for once it wasn't him. Without even acknowledging his presence the prince strode or rather staggered past him in direction of the Temple, a very puzzled Bis in his wake. _How did Dastan know the way to the sanctuary?_ He had never been there, neither had he, Bis. His friend would have some explaining to do later. For now Bis simply followed his captain through the hallways careful not to get in his way and at the same time ready if his help should be needed. The potion used by the healers couldn't be that effective, could it?

It took them some time to get to the sanctum as Dastan needed to pause regularly to catch his breath. He was well aware that his condition was far from back to normal again. He felt like he had swallowed needles that kept rubbing into his lungs with every breath he took until all he felt was burning fire. An annoying weakness made his protesting muscles tremble. But fuelled by his anger, he drove on one step after another until they finally arrived at the threshold of the Temple. It took all his remaining strength and some of Bis' help to open the massive wooden portal only to reveal an empty room with an equally empty pedestal where the precious dagger usually sat. Swirls of incense drifted in the air giving the room a surreal atmosphere.

"No!" a strangled cry escaped Dastan as he sank to his knees, all energy drained instantly from his body both from the exertion and the realization about what the princess had set off to do… _Not again!_ Tears of despair trickled down his cheeks blurring his vision, but he didn't care … _Hadn't he told her everything last night to prevent exactly this from happening? He had promised his help. Apparently his words hadn't been convincing enough or else she wouldn't have felt the urge to flee Alamut. How was he supposed to protect her now? How many hours had she gained during the night?_ He had to find her and above all stop her! With a renewed resolve he slammed his fist down on the marble tiles and got to his feet. He had to get moving and fast if he wanted to beat her to the secret temple! As he turned to Bis a stronger wave of dizziness hit him and his vision faded to grey. Bis reacted just in time to keep his friend from collapsing to the floor and hitting his head in the process…

He gently lowered him down on the steps, leaning him against a nearby ornate pillar. He needed to rouse his spirits somehow. Quickly scanning the room his gaze fell on the offerings deposited around the shrine and rested on a golden chalice filled with what looked and smelled like wine. _That would do!_ Hoping the Alamutian gods wouldn't mind Bis rapidly took it and kneeled down to administer the content to Dastan. With a cough the prince came to.

"You trying to kill me Bis?"

The latter only shook his head and annoyed rolled his eyes at Dastans antics. Leave it to the prince to make jokes in such a situation. "Thank you my friend," Dastan panted still trying to catch his breath. "You're always there when I need you…

_No, not always_, Bis thought, _or we wouldn't be in this situation_. A frown marred his face unnoticed by the prince whose mind was busy elaborating a way to thwart the suicidal plan the princess was about to fulfil. They needed to hurry if there was to be any chance of stopping her.

"But for now we've lost enough time. We need to get going. I have a damsel in distress to rescue," he couldn't help but grin at the thought. Fortunately she couldn't hear him, or his life would be in serious danger… "Help me up! I need the fastest horse and supplies for a journey to the princess' hiding place…" "But…" With an exasperated gesture, he stopped Bis' objection. "There's no time… This is a matter of life and death!" Bis nodded and rushed out to prepare what Dastan had asked for. He knew from experience that there was no point in trying to argue now. Later there would be time for explanations.

It took the prince some time to get ready, but to put on his armour was out of the question. After two unsuccessful tries he had given up, his swords and braces would have to suffice. Not wanting to loose more time than necessary he stormed out of his apartments, if his slow and uneven gait could be qualified as running. The guards standing watch were following him with surprised looks as he passed them by leaving them to wonder.

As after an agonizingly long march with lots of halts through the numerous hallways of the palace he got to the stables. There were two horses waiting for him in the courtyard, saddlebags filled to the rim with enough supplies for the journey. Bis already had mounted a beautiful bay stallion and was holding another horse by the bridle.

"What do you think you're doing?" "Accompany you. Keep you from falling off your horse, from getting killed… you choose," Bis answered with a defying glare reining in his mount and directing it towards the eastern gate the circular movement bringing the second horse in front of the prince.

"As you wish," Dastan replied with a scowl. He had to admit to himself that he wasn't too sure how he would manage the strenuous journey in his present state and he was secretly relieved to have his loyal friend at his side. Not that he would ever tell him.

As his gaze fell on the horse Bis had saddled for him, he couldn't keep his eyes from widening in surprise. "Aksh?" Dastan shot an inquiring look at Bis who simply shrugged with a grin.

"You asked for the fastest horse in the Empire. You know Aksh isn't pleased when he has to stay stabled for too long. He loves his freedom as much as we do."

Dastan shook his head grinning and mounted. "You'll explain that to Garsiv if we meet him. I'm sure he'll understand." Garsiv was very possessive of his horses breeding them and training them. He wouldn't take this well. In his mind Dastan still heard him yell after them as he fled Alamut with Tamina after their father had been murdered. But he had to focus on the task at hand now they had already wasted enough time. "Off we go," he yelled spurring the powerful black stallion to life. With one powerful leap he dove towards the narrow _kucheh _where he had fought with Asoka, so that Bis had to rush his own horse to keep up with him…

Soon they had left the buzzing streets of the ancient city behind them. It hadn't taken long for life to take its normal course again after the epic battle that had taken place. Shops were open again and street vendors had conquered their usual territory again. Then even the powerful walls had disappeared and now their world had morphed to a monotonous landscape. All one could see was sand. Everywhere. Their only companion was the warm breeze that whirled up the irritating grains that penetrated every fold and covered every inch of cloth.

They rode silently for quite some time, pushing the horses as long and hard as they dared and giving them some rest regularly without dismounting. As their journey grew longer Bis cast worried glances to Dastan, who was riding in front. It wasn't easy for a healthy rider to stay in the saddle for so long let alone for a man who had been on his deathbed so to say not two days ago. He vowed himself to make them take an extended rest soon, for he noticed the tension emanating from the young prince. At first Dastan sat on his horse with almost is usual grace but as time passed his bearing became more stiff the muscles in his back tensing at every jostle.

By now Dastan was well aware that this ride could very well be more than he could take in his present condition. Only sheer willpower kept him in the saddle as he pushed Aksh to a canter after a short pause. At least this way he got some relief from the hot air brushing the sand continuously. The rising heat made the air swirl, creating little blurring waves. It was impossible to distinguish anything in the distance. Not that he would be able to do so. Red dots kept dancing before his eyes. He always kept a few strides ahead of Bis so that the latter couldn't see his face and notice his exhaustion. His mind kept wandering to the princess they were pursuing. _Stubborn princess! Making him cross the desert once again! As if the first time hadn't already been hard enough._

His sole consolation was that this time his family was alive. His father must have been wondering. By now their disappearance should have been noticed. He hadn't thought to leave a message about his whereabouts but then he couldn't tell anyone about the reasons that had made the princess leave her city in such a hurry. How irresponsible for a leader! King Sharaman would have told her his point of view in a very convincing manner, he was sure of that. He normally would have smiled at the idea, but somehow he couldn't muster the energy to do so.

"Dastan, the horses need a break. We can't continue at this rate or they will be winded and of no use to us." Bis interrupted Dastan's grim musings. "We'll continue for some more," Dastan ground out through clenched teeth pushing Aksh harder than was really needed. Irritated the stallion shook his powerful neck, his mane billowing in dark waves.

"No! Stop! This is enough. WE – YOU need to rest!" Bis shouted groping for Aksh's reins. "You'll be of no use to the princess if you die of exhaustion!"

Surprised by the lack of resistance, he now turned fully towards Dastan. The ghostly white face that stared back at him made him pale. Dastans face was covered in a fine sheet of sweat and as white as his horses coat was black. "Dastan?" He got no response and he barely managed to get of his horse in time to catch the falling prince, who had lost consciousness. Cursing at the déjà vu, Bis let him down on the sand and covered him with his wool coat to keep him warm. Worried he felt for a pulse. Finding it strong and steady he let out a shuddering breath. An extended night of sleep would work miracles he was sure of it. They would be able to resume their strenuous ride in the early morning hours.

He took care of the horses and set up a campfire. Soon night would fall anyway and the fugitive princess would be forced to stop too, he mused. Checking on his friend, he felt relief noticing he had fallen asleep. Sighing he drew his woollen coat tighter around his shoulders and settled near the warming fire his sword ready by his side. The nights could be as cold as the days were smouldering out here in the desert.

Staring into the flames Bis let his mind revisit the events of the last days. He couldn't help but wonder at the scenes he had witnessed. Some of them he couldn't explain. And the princes' behaviour had significantly changed since he had breached the eastern gate all by himself. He had always been eager to fight for what he thought right no matter the consequences. He even tended to throw himself into battle headfirst; his body was covered in enough scars to prove so. Now, he seemed less carefree and much more thoughtful, even absentminded at moments. These changes couldn't simply be explained by his poor condition. Sometimes he would stare at people like they could disappear at every moment. Like when he had joined him moment after they had conquered the city of Alamut.

Dastan had been looking out for him as far as he could remember, but three days ago, after the battle, his behaviour had seemed odd. Never before had he seemed so relieved to see him after they had shared combat. All this left Bis puzzled as he too drifted slowly off to sleep.

to StarfishOnTheBeach : Nope he didn't give it to her, but Tamina is far to cunning to get detoured from her plans for that.

to bellathedisenchanted: Dastan's back. Thats is mainly the reason why I didn't delve into the confrontation between Sharaman and Tamina. The story needed to move forward. Right now I'm working on a new chapter I want to place after chapter 9. We'll how that works out...

to xAshlingxDreamx : Tamina is fun to write. She can be so stubborn sometimes ;) Yeah, tell me about real life, main reason this doesn't go on as fast as planned...

to gobbynoprob: Thanks for your nice review. Trying to do my best here to keep up to expectations...

to Zeldie03 : Thanks. I like to twist things ;). Not easy to write that first encounter and to stay true to character. That's the way I percieved them...

to Katy23: Thanks for the nice encouragement. It is greatly appreciated.

to VeronicaD13: You'll have to be patient, but there will definitely be some more chapters with family ... There might even be a sequel...

to Jia: Thanks for the nice review.

Thanks you to all my reviewers. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and waitinf for your feed-back if you like. There will be more soon, if real life doesn't get to invading on my muse... ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Ok, here's next chapter for my readers. I've felt the need to add it while proof-reading. Some of you might not like it. So I apologize if further delay the return of Tamina, but next chapter will will be about her...

Heartfelt thanks to those that review, they reassure me that my writing isn't totally crap and I like to hear from them. Please keep on. Now on with the story! Enjoy!

The sun slowly crept up in the eastern sky colouring the towers of the temple and the palace in a pale shade of purple as king Sharaman rose to complete his morning prayers. His night had been a restless one filled with nightmares. He'd seen his brother dying at the hand of his eldest son and after a long agony his adopted son had suffered the same fate. He'd woken up screaming in despair making the guards barge in weapons drawn. Seeing that their leader was well, they retired without further delay giving him the privacy he needed to compose himself.

Sighing the king decided that sleep would probably elude him, so enveloping himself in his robes he stepped out on the balcony. Perhaps the fresh morning breeze would help diffuse the remnants of the horrible visions he had been given. As he stepped out he could still distinguish the last stars in the cool velvety sky above. He walked to the railing and rested his arms on it. Deep down he could see the city wake up. The first merchants hurried along the streets with their products to set up their stalls on the marketplace. Women set out to refill the water reserves for the day. There was no sign of the battle that had taken place only days ago. Life had resumed its normal flow. Except for the ruins near the western gate and the light billows of smoke that still kept rising from them. It would take the city some time to get rid of those ugly scars. He would take care of it. There wouldn't be any sign of the destructions caused by his brother when the Persian craftsmen were finished. It would take longer for the hearts to heal. The wounds caused by this disaster wouldn't fade easily and above all they would leave scars, physical and emotional ones. The lives lost couldn't be redeemed for all the gold of the Persian Empire. What a mess the greed of one man, once dear to him above all others, had left them in.

His hands clenched to fists when he thought of his once beloved brother. How many times had he Sharaman told the story of the lion to a fascinated public during feasts? He couldn't count them. Never ever would he have suspected that Nizam wasn't satisfied with the life he led. There had been no signs of his treacherous plans. At least not that he was aware of. Did that mean that he was loosing his ability to lead the Empire? It hurt to admit that. He couldn't put the reins into his oldest son's hands he wasn't ready, yet. So he had to find a way to keep his people safe and make the land prosper. Nizam had chosen his path, made his decision. He had carelessly thrown away everything of value that a man could have, only to assuage his thirst for power.

From what little Tus had been able to tell him, Nizam had built quite an effective plan to get the control over Alamut. The sacred city was said to hold powerful secrets, but no one had ever been able to confirm any of the rumors that spread constantly. He himself had been warned by his father never to take action against it lest a great danger would befall all of humanity. He had taken heed of this and ever been careful to avoid confrontation with the Alamutians. That had seemed strange to some of his generals considering the wealth hidden there. Even the merchants travelling far into the East and facing countless dangers weren't eager to go to this city. They feared the strange gods and talked about the pagan cult that resided there. So what had his brother discovered there and how? He needed to know.

However there was another question that constantly kept popping up. How had Dastan been able to uncover the truth? And in such a short lapse of time. He definitely needed to have a word with his youngest son. Perhaps he could convince him to explain what had happened between the moment the city was breached and his revelations on the steps of the palace. Some might have found strange the fact that he trusted the adopted son more than his own flesh, but the felt that Dastan had been right, much like that day long ago.

What a strange situation. As far as he remembered Nizam had always taken care of Dastan when he first came to the palace. He had bought the little boy pomegranates and scolded him mildly when he spat the seeds at his brother. But he had always protected him, taught him how to behave and calmed his fears when people of the nobility looked at him in disgust. Oh how Dastan must have hurt when he had discovered what was going on. Knowing his son he must have felt responsible somewhat of the outcome of the whole ordeal. He had always looked up to his uncle. He had to talk to him, make him understand that none of what had happened was his fault.

Thankfully Dastan had always listened to his words, unlike his two other sons, and openly talked about his point of view. Hopefully he would do the same now. Once he was well enough to talk that is. Sharaman sighed. It was time to start the morning prayers and then he would visit his son to see how he was doing.

Once he had taken care of the usual rites and given orders to move the army to strategic positions in order to be able to protect the city, he went to the chambers of his youngest son. He hadn't heard any news during the night, so he decided that must be good news. The guards were standing outside with a somewhat sleepy look on their faces. Their watch must have been a quiet one, else they would be more alert. This comforted him in the feeling that there hadn't been any problems, dismissed his nightmares even further. As they noticed his approach they straightened their spines and set up stoic looks making the king smirk. Silently they opened the doors to usher him in.

As soon as he set foot in the chamber he felt that something was amiss. At first he couldn't clearly make out what it was, but as his gaze travelled to the low table where his sons weapons had been displayed he noticed that some were missing. A feeling of dread set in his stomach as he hurried over to the bed throwing back the curtains only to reveal its emptiness. _Where was Dastan? Where was his friend Bis? _

"Dastan? Bis!"

There was no response, surprised at the outbreak the guards opened the doors puzzled looks on their faces. "Sire?"

"When and why has my son been moved? Why haven't I been notified?" a very angry king roared making the guards squirm with unease. They hadn't seen or heard anything during the night for the simple reason they had been dozing till moments before. Confused and ashamed they refused to meet his questioning look.

"I see." It took Sharaman only one look at their faces to understand what had happened. The two men had probably been snoring loudly for most part of the night. With two rapid strides he was back into the room and near the table. What was missing? Perhaps he could find some indications as to where his son had disappeared. Sharaman quickly assessed the weapons. The twin blades were missing the rest of his armour was there, except for the braces. That could only mean one thing. For some reason his son had felt the necessity to leave in his present weak state and apparently it had been in a hurry. His footman had left his bedroll on the floor without rolling it up. Knowing him he must have followed his son without objection. Some clothes were discarded carelessly on the marble tiles. What had happened here? He had to speak to the princess at once. Perhaps she could enlighten him on the whereabouts of his son. Hopefully he wasn't alone…

Even as the thought popped up in his mind he set out to find the princess without any regards for proper protocol. He hurried up towards the temple where he was sure to find the guardian in prayer. He was familiar enough with their practices to know that like him they always welcomed the new day in prayer. As he got to the temple he simply pushed open the heavy wooden doors without waiting. He hated to interrupt, but this couldn't be delayed. As he barged in heads flew up and a murmur of disapproval rose in the temple. His behaviour wasn't that of a king. He was well aware of that, but at this point he didn't care. His son's life might be in danger. He was in no shape to be up and travelling around least of all through the desert. So time was of essence here.

"Where's my son? I need to speak to the princess! Immediately!" His tone was that of a king tolerating no delay. And the reaction to his outburst was just as quick.

A man clad in soldiers garb stood up and came in his direction. He bowed low as a sign of respect for the Persian king. "My lord. My name is Asoka. I'm the footman of the High Priestess." His calm demeanour somewhat quietened the fears raging inside the king. But not for long. "Princess Tamina has left the city upon an urgent errand. I'm afraid she can't be reached for some days. May I be of some help instead?"

Taking in the man standing before him Sharaman tried to compose his thoughts. Even here in the temple he was clad in armour. His face showed some bruising and one of his arms rested in a sling. Apparently he was standing in front of a soldier, not a priest of some kind judging by the ornate breastplate he was wearing. This man could probably understand his queries better than a simple guardian. Exception made of the princess that is. A small smile crept upon his lips as he thought back to the day before. What a formidable opponent she had made. Really challenging. Refreshing. Tus could take some lessons with her, he mused. She would make a fine queen some day. The poor man that would be married to her! His life wouldn't be an easy one.

Asoka stood waiting patiently for the older man to speak up. He too had been taken by surprise in the morning when he had been told that the princess had left during the night. At least as much as when she had ordered him to stay in his position instead of punishing him for his failure as was the rule. She had spared him and his family a great disgrace and therefore he had sworn an oath do everything he could to protect her as much as the dagger.

Sharaman had to shake away the thoughts that kept swirling in his mind and to get back to the present. Reining in his flaring temper, he repeated his query. "Apparently my son has been moved during the night. I wanted to inquire as to why this has happened?" He closely watched the other man's reactions and the brief look of surprise that flickered in his eyes didn't escape his close scrutiny. So no one in the temple knew about his son's disappearance? That seemed to confirm his idea that Dastan had left upon his own volition. The thought was comforting and unnerving at the same time. And if the princess had disappeared too chances were that they were travelling together… But to what avail?

"Bring the healers." Asoka turned to one of the guardians. "We need to speak to them. Tell them to meet us in the throne room." The man nodded and rapidly left the temple. "Sire if I may suggest we go there too. We'll be more comfortable and the prayers can go on without further disturbance." With a slight bow of the head Sharaman acknowledged the suggestion and he followed the man down to great hall. When they reached it the men that had tended to the prince were already assembled and patiently waiting for them.

Sharaman took place on the throne as was his habit even if this wasn't his palace. And the men bowed to him to show their respect as they had done every time they had addressed him before. "King Sharaman wishes to know what has happened to his son. He can't be found this morning. Do you have some explanations to give that might enlighten us about his whereabouts?" Asoka explained the reason why they had been summoned to this unplanned meeting to the puzzled men. The last time one of them had seen the prince he was lying on his bed slumbering peacefully. They looked at each other their faces a perfect reflection of their cluelessness. Then one of the healers took a step forward and bowed towards the king. "Sire, if I may expose my theory?"

"Go on." The king urged. Impatience was blurring his mind. He needed some information. Now! His hands tightly gripped the armrests giving him the necessary support to control his temper. He wasn't accustomed to have to wait for the answers he demanded.

"Your sons footman has managed to bring us the dagger that the prince had been stabbed with. We have been able to determine the poison that has been used to lace it. It is the venom of a snake of a rare species thought to have disappeared years ago. It was endemic to some rare regions of the desert. This snakes are related to the common horn viper but infinitely more dangerous. If the antidote to its poison isn't administered in the right amount and in a specific period of time the person bitten by it is condemned to die in a very atrocious manner…"

"This can't be…" Sharaman's world seemed to tilt out of its axis as he heard the explanations given by the healer. He only knew of one group of people who used that kind of weapon. Years ago he had made sure that they were disbanded, erased from the surface of the earth. As he had taken the crown he had wanted to show his subjects the kind of king he wanted to be: respecting the law and acting by it. So he had entrusted his brother with the difficult task to dismantle the secret organization and Nizam had sworn that the orders had been obeyed. Sharaman had had no reason to question his brother's words. Apparently he had been deceived right from the beginning! _Oh brother! Why?_ Hurt enveloped his heart with its powerful tentacles as the words of the man standing before him sank in.

"But, Sire, I can assure you…" The healer didn't understand the reaction of the man sitting in front of him. He was somehow vexed at the way his knowledge seemed to be questioned. He was about to retort when a calming gesture from Asoka stopped him. The warrior had noticed the change in the kings demeanour and knowing what had happened days before, he thought he understood why the king was reacting the way he did. This must have to do with the vizier and his treachery. He looked expectantly at the king, waiting for him to come to terms with whatever was preoccupying him.

It took Sharaman some time to accept the idea that even at the beginning of his reign he had been fooled by his own blood. He would need some time to analyse the depth of his brothers involvement in this matter too. But first things first, right now he needed to solve the mysterious disappearance of his youngest son. "Speak further!" With a nod he encouraged the man to continue his explanations.

The physician bowed and resumed his task. "As I said before, the antidote must be taken in a certain span of time and fortunately it seems we have been able to do so. Last night I personally brought the vial to the prince's room and administered it. So depending on his body's capacity to regenerate itself he should have woken up this morning or this evening at the latest. It will take some time for him to recuperate from this ordeal and he will be very vulnerable in the mean time. But he will make a full recovery my lord."

Relief started to flood the king's mind. _Dastan was saved! So he had taken the right decision after all. God be praised! _Even if there still wasn't an explanation to where he had disappeared, this was good news for the father he was.

"Asoka?" Turning to the man standing to his right he carefully chose the words to phrase his next question. "I'm aware that this city hallows secrets. Is it possible that the princess has left because of these?" Seeing the alarmed look in the man's eyes was all the confirmation he needed. So there was the possibility that Dastan had followed her to wherever she was fleeing. He had no possibility to know for certain, but in the meanwhile he was the only leader left to protect this city form eventual attacks. So he had to make sure it remained unharmed.

"My Lord as a protector of the Temple, I'm not allowed to talk about the secrets of Alamut. This is a choice that belongs only to the High Priestess." Asoka answered bowing low on front of the king.

"Rest assured I have no intention of breaching any of Alamut's secrets. But for the time being I intend to make sure the city is safe and therefore I need your help. You're well aware by now that my sons initially had set out to overpower warlord Kosh and to restore peace to this part of the Persian Empire? He roams this part of the desert and he might take the opportunity we foolishly presented him to try to conquer your city. We need to prepare ourselves for an eventual siege. Together we can keep him at bay while waiting for my sons and the princess to return."

Asoka quickly dismissed any distrust he might have had against the Persian king. The man sitting in front of him had revealed himself to be a caring father and a protective leader in the short time he had seen him. £If they worked together they would defend both the Empire and the Holy City. He nodded his head to show his approval of the ideas Sharaman had presented him with. After having waved out the healers both men started to prepare the plans for defending their city against possible attacks.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi guys, sorry for the publishing delay but real life tends to invade ;). Hope this short piece is to your liking, because for at last one of the next chapters I fear I will have to find a good place to hide, yep! Enjoy! And tell me what you think if you like.

Meanwhile out in the desert, a very solitary princess was battling to keep her campfire going. It had been a losing battle. First she had been surprised by nightfall revealing her that she had misjudged the position of the sun, which had left her very little time to gather dry wood. Then she discovered that in her hurry to leave the beloved Alamut, she had forgotten to pack some tinder to light it more easily. After all princesses weren't supposed to know how to do such things. That's what servants were there for … or Persians, they surely would know what to do shrivelled and sun dried desert rats that they were. Frustrated at her own disability to accomplish such a simple task as keep a fire going, she curled herself up on her bedroll to get some sleep clasping a dagger close to her just to make sure she could defend herself in case anyone decided to sneak up on her during her sleep. But it didn't come as easily as she had thought. So she carefully planned her next steps. She would have to get on her way before dawn if she wanted to outrun her pursuers. Surely the Persians would try something to stop her… Fortunately the prince was in no condition to follow her. Even if the potion he had been given had annihilated the effect of the poison, it would take him some time to be able to travel, especially if the journey was such an exhausting one as this one. She was surprised at the slight disappointment that she felt at that. Normally the idea should have been a reassuring one to her. Puzzled by the emotions that kept bubbling up she sighed and turned for some time. Soon her thoughts started to drift and moments later she was fast asleep the stress of the previous days finally taking its toll.

It wasn't till the sun stood high and kissed her tan cheeks that she woke up. Cursing, she hastily chewed on some dried fruit and started to load her bedroll in the saddlebags. It was a good thing she hadn't taken the harness off the previous evening. Trying to do so she had discovered that it was far to heavy for her to lift, so she simply had loosened the straps holding it in place relieving the horse of the pressure of the girth. It hadn't been an ideal solution but it was all she could to do for the poor animal.

In her haste to get moving she simple threw the saddlebags into place and forgot to check the girth. As she hoisted herself up in the stirrup the whole thing slid to the side dropping a surprised princess on the ground. Frightened the horse leapt to the side kicking at the strange object clinging to it. But the saddle kept its position and the horse took off galloping. _So much for gaining some time. Arggh!_ Tamina kicked at the sand to vent her anger. Now she had to capture her mount and then to wrestle the whole package up again before she could set out. This would delay her seriously. The gods definitely weren't on her side these days. She never had encountered that kind of antagonism before. With a sigh, she set out following the tracks her horse had left.

Bis felt something crawling on his cheek. Grimacing he tried to get rid of it, before popping up a sleepy eye at his unsuccessful attempts. Next to him sat a smirking Dastan holding a thread of wool that he had used to tickle him with. "Very efficient watch my friend…" Scoffing Bis made a face and got to his feet. "Feeling better are we?" he asked, but it was more of a statement. Surely if his friend could muster the energy to play tricks on him, he was feeling better than the previous evening.

"Definitely. Feeling somewhat light headed though."

"A breakfast will help…" Bis went to the saddlebags to pull some food out.

"We don't have the time, Bis. We need to get on our way as soon as possible. Some dates will have to suffice!" When Bis turned to object, Dastan was already busying himself strapping his saddle to his horse. Rolling his eyes Bis did the same and soon they were on their way. "I'm curious. How are we supposed to find the princess? It's not like we know what she's up to, do we?" To him it was like searching the proverbial needle in a haystack or rather… the desert.

"Bis, there's a hidden temple near the outskirts of the Hindu Kush. She's headed there to hide an Alamutian artefact – a dagger. That's her plan. And it will cost her life. So all we have to do is to get there before her." Dastan explained to his friend who remained intrigued at the numerous revelations. Of one thing Bis was sure though. Always when Dastan set out on such simple errands they turned into much bigger plots. This time surely wouldn't be very different. Shaking his head, Bis spurred his horse to follow the prince who had gotten some advance on him.

As time went by and there still was no sign of the fugitive princess worry settled firmly in the prince's mind. _Shouldn't they have found traces in the sand? Sure the desert was always in movement, but she couldn't be that far yet, could she?_ The comfortable silence between the two riders gave him enough time to follow the sinuous path of "what if's". Every time he hit an especially grim image of the outcome of their journey he subconsciously nudged his mount to a faster pace. It didn't help that memories from their first journey kept popping up.

They rode on for hours and again from time to time Bis threw worried glances to the prince who was riding in front as was his habit. "Bis I'm not going to fall of my horse this time. No need to worry," Dastan said without turning. A wry smile graced the prince's lips. Bis was flustered, embarrassed at getting caught. "Well someone needs to look out for you, if you don't." One swift pull on the reins pulled Aksh to a stop and Dastan turned him on his heels feeling the need to show that he wasn't as helpless any more. "Wow, really rousing, Bis. You make it sound like I'm some mindless, reckless adventurer…"

Bis couldn't help but laugh at the faces Dastan made to accentuate his speech. _What a pair they made_… he thought. Laughing both resumed their journey. How good it was to be able to ride by his friend's side again, Bis mused. He felt immense relief that his worst fears hadn't come true. Dastan seemed to regain his former physical condition at a remarkable speed. Those healers in Alamut surely knew their job. He didn't want to know what would have been his destiny hadn't Dastan survived. Would the king or the princes have kept him with them? Would he have finished his career as just another anonymous soldier of the Persian army? Would he have been made responsible for the tragic outcome? He was so absorbed by his dreadful thought that he didn't pay any attention to the road they were following.

Their journey was made easier by Dastans constant regain of strength. Nevertheless Bis always kept a watchful eye on his friend, not wanting to repeat the experience of the first day of their journey. If Dastan had noted his right hand's attitude he didn't show it. After the events he had experienced in the former timeline he could fairly well understand the feelings that fuelled his friend's actions and after being outcast and on his own he appreciated it to be the centre of the attention from someone he considered family. Bis had been there for almost as long as he could remember. He had seen him in all kind of situations life had brought on them and most importantly Bis was the reason he had gotten this unprecedented destiny. That day in the market it was because of him the king had taken him in. So everything good that had happened to him was thanks to his friend and the day that he had been able to repay him for it he did it the only way he could by making him his footman.


	11. Chapter 11

short author intervention to thank for the reviews:

Doc : Thanks for your review, I hope I can keep up with your expectations...

StarfishOnTheBeach: Thanks nice to see you're sticking around ;) I hope you're not too disapppointed, still no reunion :( didn't work out that way. But I promise I'll update soon so the wait won't be too long...

VeromicaD13: Hmm, you're waiting for the Hassansins? Well Let's see if you're right...- evil grin- no wait! that is next chapter ooops...

Tamina had been searching for her horse for quite some time before she found it calmly nibbling at some dried grass in a small wadi. It seemed to be patiently waiting for her to come get it. This time she was able to seize the reins before it could take off again and tie it to a small tree. Two or three times had she found herself in this situation and every time in her hurry to get to the hidden valley she had forgotten to tie her horse to something so that it couldn't get away while she was busying herself with the saddle. This time around at least she wouldn't repeat that error. She could almost see the smirk that would have graced the Persians lips had he been present, surely he would have seized every opportunity to signal her how out of her element she was outside of her palace and without her servants. The thought made her snort in disdain. Those Persians thought they could control everything, she would show them… A sigh escaped her lips as she became aware of the fact that she had lost most of her supplies, but thankfully she had been able to collect the water canteen as she followed the tracks. Before placing the saddle back in its rightful position she decided that first she would have to drench her thirst. _How did those Persians manage to cross the deserts_? Her throat felt parched by her prolonged march under the unforgiving sun. The water here wasn't as fresh and cool as that provided by the renowned wells of her city, but it would do. She carefully filled her canteen and ate some dates before attacking the task to saddle her mount properly again. An hour later she was able to finally leave the small vale behind her. This little adventure had cost her most of the morning and more important the freshest hours to travel. So she spurred the horse to a light canter to get some road behind her.

"There!" Dastan followed Bis' outstretched arm, he had to shade his eyes before he could make out what his friend had detected. There were faint traces in the sand to their right. Dastan spurred his horse, eager to investigate the imprints. It took him only seconds to slide to a stop next to the two parallel lines in the hot sand. He didn't want to let his hopes rise before having the certainty that these were made by a single horse, specifically the one they were pursuing. It wasn't easy to clearly make out the tracks in the sand. The sun tended to erase all traces even more so if you were in the middle of the desert and if the mighty rays didn't succeed the hot winds vaporized the last remnants.

Dismounting before his horse had come to a full stop he slid to his knees to get a closer look. These were indeed made by one solitary rider who had been travelling swiftly judging by the distance between the imprints. As he compared the direction of the two parallel lines to the position of the sun, he was relieved to see they were going in the right direction. So the princess had probably left these. Unfortunately she had passed here hours ago because the imprints had already completely crumbled as the sun had evaporated the faint traces of dew clinging to the grains of sand.

_Would they be able to reach the hidden temple in due time? Why was she always doing this? They must have taught her other strategies to protect that dagger than to simply sacrifice herself? What kind of cruel god asks that of his followers?_

Dastans thoughts wandered as he absentmindedly observed the grains of sand flowing through his clenched fingers. "Without the right sand it's just another knife. And not even a very sharp one." _He recalled her exact words as if she had said them only instants before. And yet those words had never been uttered. They only survived in his troubled memories. Why had things to be so complicate? Not two weeks ago he had led a simple life following the orders given him by his father or by his brethren. He hadn't had to worry about everything only about the mission that he had been given and now? Every time he tried to do the right thing events got out of his hands and the situation seemed worse than before. No not really, correct that! After all his family was well this time around. Nizam hadn't succeeded with his plans_… He hadn't seen or heard his friend approach.

Bis sat silently on his horse registering the worry etched on the prince's face. _What was going on?_ He never had seen him so distraught before. Normally it was Dastan who was the most light-hearted of the two. He always made fun of Bis when he gave in to his worries and now? _Why would the prince be so unsettled by the actions of a foreign princess? Unless…?_ Slowly a knowing smile crept up on the man's face. So finally Dastan understood what Bis was worrying about when they were away from Nasaf for longer periods and he couldn't forget his latest feminine conquest. But how could this be? Surely the princess was a beauty, but Dastan hadn't even met her. How and when could he possibly have fallen for her?

A slight movement to their left caught Bis's attention. Far away he could distinguish a large cloud of sand. There must be a large group moving there. A caravan of merchants? Soldiers? Friend or foe? Impossible to say at such a distance. "Dastan! Look!" At his outburst Dastan's head flew up all thoughts now firmly back in the present. From his position low on the ground he couldn't make out anything, so he rapidly mounted Aksh again. But even from the saddle it was impossible to distinguish who or what was at the origin of the billowing sand. Memories of the past crept up in Dastans mind. Hassansins? No that couldn't be! This group was far too large for that. Koshkhan? His army was last seen far more to the south as he fled from the Persian army. Whoever it was there was no time to loose they had to get moving again.

"Come on Bis, we need to get out of here. We have a stubborn princess to find." Both of them nudged their horses to a gallop hoping to reach their goal in time. Aksh set off whinnying and vigorously kicking at the sand. His powerful strides made it seem like he barely touched the sand. Bis' horse though a good one was far less at ease on this type of ground and so it always was a bit slower.

Suddenly Aksh tore to a sliding stop the prince leaning down and circling some traces. They had arrived at the place where the princess had spent the night. The wood gathered was blackened, but not really burnt. So she must have had some difficulties in lighting it. Dastan nudged his stallion to follow the tracks. Upon joining him Bis could make out a change in the tracks. The sand looked like it had been ploughed. The traces were more erratic like the horse had been kicking or bucking at something, but above all there was a new set following them. Someone had continued on foot and that someone had been stomping furiously through the dunes. "Clever princess." Shaking his head Dastan connected the dots. Somehow the princess had managed to make her horse take off without her. With her constant babbling she could make even horses flee. A laugh erupted from his chest as he figured the scene in his mind.

Rapidly he turned serious as he noticed Bis' wondering stare. Some day he would have to tell his friend the whole story, but now was not the moment. So now he simply nodded in an inviting gesture and a light pressure of his legs made Aksh take off again. Both were accomplished riders and so the distance between them and their prey decreased significantly. Dastan noticed this fact with some relief. They probably would reach their destination soon.

She had been riding all afternoon only stopping to let her horse drink some water from her dwindling supplies and as the day began to fall, she was walking beside her horse to give it some rest. She couldn't risk pushing it further or she would have to leave it behind. As she stomped on, up another sand dune she had to chuckle. _Had one ever seen a guardian get to the sanctuary in her present dishevelled state? _She doubted it. Even though in the documents relating its long story there had been several occasions when a guardian had had to bring the dagger to this ultimate refuge.

Slowly the landscape around her changed the sand dunes changed into fields of scattered rocks, which didn't facilitate her progression. She was now almost as exhausted as her mount both of them tripping on small stones at almost regular intervals. The hard rocks scorched her hands. Finally as she clambered up one more hill the goal of her journey displayed itself before her eyes. A smile graced her lips. She had made it!

Even if nothing had gone as planned she could now distinguish the outskirts of the mountains surrounding the temple from where she stood. Hopefully she would reach her destination tomorrow and fulfil her destiny. The dagger would be handed back to the gods and the world be safe. No one would stop her now! She was given the chance to prove her worthiness as a guardian, but somehow the perspective didn't make her feel elated as she thought she would. Instead a deep dread filled her to the core and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling off. With a sigh she stepped forward to begin the final part of her journey.


	12. Chapter 12

Ok, guys a small update for those who can't wait for more...

to VeronicaD13: Hm, let's see if this is what you expected...

to StarFishOnTheBeach: Nope, she definitely has a problem with travels ;). That is when she's on her own :D...

to tidia: Hope you enjoy this short little chapter. There's more to come and soon... and I'm afraid I will have to take cover then from my irate readers ;)

to Doc: Yep you're right there's action to come. How did you guess?

Happy reading!

Both riders kept silent most part of their journey each one rummaging his own thoughts. Bis wondered at the strange behaviour of the princess. He couldn't understand her need to flee her city. The battle was over now. Where was the need to hide an artefact? The Persian leaders had promised that the city would not be touched and that they would keep it safe until the structural damages were repaired. They probably even envisioned an alliance of some kind. What could be so important or dangerous? His gaze swept towards his friend riding in front of him. Surely he knew, why else would he be so determined to stop her from doing whatever she had planned. Hopefully he would care to enlighten him soon.

Oblivious to the thoughts that agitated his friend, Dastan kept reliving the trip during the time that had not come to pass. Every stone, every valley they passed triggered memories. Some of them good others less. He only could wonder at how different this life was. He had almost died at the hand of his uncle instead of Tamina. And yet, here he was repeating the same dreadful trip, but this time painfully aware of what lay ahead. Last time he hadn't fully understood what the princess intended to do, even if she had explained the contract she was to fulfil to him during the sandstorm. He hadn't connected the dots, not until it was almost too late. And now she was in possession of that cursed dagger of hers and as if it wasn't enough already she had a head-start … Subconsciously Dastan spurred his horse to a faster pace, drawing Bis out of his reverie. Time was of essence now… Dastan let out a deep breath of relief as he could finally outline the mountains around the temple.

Tamina had finally arrived at the hidden temple. Her spirits lifted now that she was near her goal. With a sigh of relief she fell to her knees; her trip had exhausted her, but she had made it. All her training had been worth it, she had been able to find her way without ever diverging from her path. As she stood up her gaze wandered over the quiet valley. It was a beautiful place, even if the green wasn't as luscious here as in the valley around her city. The climate here was much more rigorous and kept the villagers from planting large orchards. Trees didn't accommodate well with the low temperatures that overtook these regions at night. But herbs and medicinal plants did and very well. This had been the first reason this village had been created. Then it had become more important as the gods had blessed them with the dagger. It served as a constant reminder of the weakness of mankind and a test. Shaking those thoughts, not willing to go there yet, let her gaze sweep the slopes of the hills surrounding her.

This was such a peaceful place, much different from the High Temple in Alamut, where intrigues were usual tidings. She remembered well when she was brought here for her training. Life was hard, so very different from the palace, but then much more genuine. She had always liked to come out to this refuge, even if the journey to it always was a harrowing experience. Then, as a child, she had never thought about the real significance of this place. But then ten-year-old children rarely thought about their demise. The notion was far to abstract to them. Now as an adult, she was fully aware that if she completed her mission this peaceful valley with its numerous caves would be her grave. As realization hit her full force her steps faltered…

_Not now!_ She would do what she had set out to and nothing, not even her own weakness would keep her from it. Taking a deep breath to settle the anxiousness constricting her chest she started climbing towards the entrance… _Strange,_ she thought, _no one here? Where have the villagers gone?_ She dismissed the nagging feeling at the back of her mind with a shrug. Perhaps they were gathering herbs for their potions. They usually did while the weather permitted it. With one final effort Tamina drew herself up on the upper platform that led towards the shrine. She turned to admire the landscape at her feet.

This would probably be the last time she would admire it. Unbidden memories came forth... How often had she been keeping watch from here as a child? A deep unsettling sadness filled her.

_Never again. She wouldn't see the breath taking view of Alamut any more, never again hear the bustling noises of the market streets._ _But mankind would be safe! It was her destiny… hers alone. She would never have a family of her own. It never had been about her. Her life wasn't important. Instead other people would have their lives granted._ _Forever_.

A single tear escaped her and slowly made its way down her cheek. She shook her head to clear her mind and forget that pair of blue eyes that kept troubling her. _Why did she even remember them? It wasn't as if she had met the man very often, so how could she see them so well in her mind? And above all why did she feel so warm and secure while thinking of that Persian? Silly princess! _She scolded herself.

It was now or never! Tamina turned and stepped towards the entrance. Once inside it took her eyes some time to adjust to the dim light. The wall of stone with the star shaped hole in it was right in front of her. As she stomped through the water surrounding it she felt someone harshly grab her by her arms. She was so startled that she couldn't suppress a yelp.


	13. Chapter 13

As promised here's the next chapter. And still I'm not making any profit of these characters. They simply don't belong to me. But my plot does. Your reviews stated the previous chapter was an evil cliffhanger, yes I have to agree, but it served to prepare for this one. I'm afraid I'll have to find a good hiding place before you have finished reading it... - evil grin -

StarFishOnTheBeach for you this chapter is doubled, so you'll have more to read. Hope you enjoy it.

VeronicaD13 I hope at least some of your questions are answered here...

Tidia yep sometimes one has to pique the readers interest, I hope I managed so...

As always I'll be pleased to hear your comments. Other people are welcome to do so too... Ok so now I'm gonna hide... Next update will take some time, because I have to straighten some things out first... and work will be interefering strongly during the next weeks...

Have a nice read until then...

"And what have we got here?" a voice snarled. "Nice! This one we can exchange for at least two camels at the slave market of Lur!" a second voice answered. Tamina tried to struggle, but the man was far stronger and his vice like grip didn't loosen one bit at her attempts. Surely she would be covered in bruises tomorrow. "Let me go!" she screamed, her anger boiling up. "I'm a princess and High Priestess of Alamut! You owe me respect!" Both men laughed at her outbreak and dragged her back outside into the bright daylight. She had to blink to allow her eyes to adjust to it even if she had stepped into the darkness only moments before.

To her dismay she noticed that the two men were dressed like Persians, but their armour was somewhat different than those of the soldiers she had seen in Alamut… _Who were those men? Were they regular soldiers of the Persian army? Had they been sent by the prince? Could they be followers of that man called Nizam? The one who had brought this cataclysm upon her city? But he was dead, surely they would have fled the wrath of the betrayed king? Mercenaries? _Tamina couldn't set her mind on any of those possibilities. Her musings were cut short as the men shoved her towards the path leading away from the secret temple and towards a second valley, larger than this one. Tamina was unceremoniously pushed forward every time she slowed down her pace. "Move if you don't want me to drag you!" The burlier of the two growled. The second one only glared at her with barely disguised lust in his eyes. "Our master will be pleased to meet such an important person." He bowed ironically and pushed her hard in the back. She stumbled forward and couldn't bite back her retort. "Spoken as true Persians. Brutal and without honour." A disgusted look marred her beautiful features. She didn't see the slap coming, but it hurt like hell and made her feel slightly dizzy. But even as the second man tried to grab her, she kneed him in the gut and as she turned she slammed her elbow right in his face. A slight crack could be heard.

"She broke my nose! Get a hold of her!" The man howled holding his hands to his nose in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. The larger of the two was far more careful and as he grabbed her wrist, he yanked her arm so she stumbled back against him. He immediately stopped her struggling with his dagger at her throat. "Bind her hands!" he ordered the wounded one who rapidly bound her wrists tightly together so that the leather straps cut deep into her tender skin, but she didn't beg him to loosen it. They wouldn't be able to boast that they had her, a princess, beg for mercy. The thought made her straighten her spine. While the soldier faced her, she admired her handiwork with a satisfied smirk and snorted in disgust. His nose was swelling rapidly and blood still flowed down his chin.

Now that their prey was secured and couldn't play any more tricks on them, they resumed their journey towards their camp. It wasn't far away and as they rounded a road bend she could take in the tents of a rather large camp. These men were soldiers, but they couldn't be attached to the prince or the traitor, their assembly was far to heteroclite to match the image of a regular army. Most of them were sitting around campfires smoking, drinking or cleaning their weapons. As her gaze swept on she could distinguish stakes driven into the earth and people chained to them at the far end of the encampment. The villagers! All of them were prisoners here, even the small children. Relief briefly flooded her. At least they were alive! She wasn't aware that she had stopped moving until she was shoved forwards again.

They brought her to the largest tent guarded by two soldiers in heavy armour who let them pass without any visible reaction to their presence. Inside they found a group of three men eagerly discussing while gesturing over a table laden with maps. Both soldiers made her kneel before throwing themselves down to greet their leader. He looked up at the disturbance and seemed somewhat annoyed until his eyes fell upon Tamina. He quirked an eyebrow and turned away from the maps he had been discussing with his generals.

"And what is this about?" he asked with a falsely calm voice. "My lord," the man to Tamina's left answered keeping his head down. "We found her in the temple as they call it. She pretends to be a princess and a High Priestess of Alamut!" At the name of Alamut the man looked at her in surprise as Tamina could observe through her eyelashes. She had been forced down, but her head was still held high. Now as the man's gaze travelled appreciatingly over her body, she even dared to stare right into his eyes.

"A princess? Really?" He approached her, but as he leaned forward he smirked wrinkling his nose. "Well one surely can't say she smells like one." Tamina was outraged, but managed with a visible effort to keep quiet. "What are you doing here so far away from your city? And without being accompanied by a proper escort as your rank demands? Have the Persian princes made you flee?" He laughed at his own joke and his men joined in. Tamina was fuming by now, but this pause gave her enough time to examine her opponent. He seemed to be about the same age as the oldest of the three princes. _What was his name again? Tus, yes._ His hair was black and fine scented oils made it curl slightly. Of medium height, he wasn't as well built as the youngest prince. His face was rather handsome, but it was distorted by a cruel expression around his mouth and in his eyes. They were cold, void of life and full of disdain. His clothing was expensive, richly embroidered, fitting for a prince. He seemed to be a man of some social rank Tamina mused.

Noting her inquiring stare he decided to remember his former training as a man of the Persian court. "Let me introduce myself. You may have already heard of me. My name is Koshkhan and I'm the leader of this army and the next owner of the throne of Persia." He bowed with elegance. "Please, raise to your feet princess. We're equals and we may be allies soon…"

Tamina bit her cheek in an effort to mask her surprise and to restrain her temper. _How could such a barbarian pretend to be her equal? And an ally?_ She didn't wait to be asked twice to get to her feet even if the task was complicated by her bound wrists.

"Untie her hands," Koshkhan ordered his soldiers, who busied themselves to follow his bidding swiftly. "Leave now, both of you!" Both men bowed low before leaving in a hurry. "You must excuse my men, but they behave like illiterate camel riders . . ." "… and surely they were before joining this … army," Tamina finished his sentence. "If they have misbehaved, please tell me and they will be punished."

Tamina couldn't keep from smirking. "I'm capable of taking care of myself, lord Koshkhan." "I can see that. I trust the broken nose was your doing?" Koshkhan seemed thoroughly amused. "I like fierce women." Again his gaze wandered over her body, then he turned towards a nearby table with an inviting gesture. "Please feel free to join me at my table. You surely must be famished after such a long journey through the desert?"

Tamina was wondering what he was planning. She didn't have to wait for long… "Princess, you surely are aware of the fact that I've been roaming Persia for quite some time now? You must've wondered about the reason behind all these raids? Unless you think of me as a common thief?" His voice had gotten a threatening undertone that made Tamina shudder. He laughed at seeing that. "As I've told you my ultimate goal is to re-establish my family and myself in our rightful place." This got him Tamina's full attention. _How come that Sharaman had become king if he wasn't the rightful heir?_

"Sharaman is the reason my family had to leave the court of Nasaf. We've been exiled. Thrown out of the palace like street dogs…" Anger made him crush the pomegranate he was holding. The juice of the fruit seeping through his fingers had an angry red colour. _Almost like blood._ Tamina couldn't quench the dread building inside of her. This was a bad omen. There was no doubt that everyone trying to cross this man was doomed. By now Taminas appetite was gone. She forced herself to nibble on some dried fruit while listening to Koshkhan's plans carefully keeping a cool facade. This man mustn't see her fear. She had to keep her calm and to try to turn this situation to her advantage, somehow.

"Together we could get rid of Sharaman and his brood. How dare he bring down the noble guild of the Hassansins without asking the opinion of his counsellors? He brought scum into the palace and declared it to be his adopted son? Some of the noble families didn't take these actions well but we were the only ones making our opposition known. So we had to pay the price for it." He seemed lost in thought as he dwelled in those memories of the past. Tamina was shocked at his statement, but she didn't show it. Her thoughts were reeling and she had to force herself to listen on.

"… The Holy City of Alamut would be safe. I'd protect it with my army. _Or crush it! Reducing it to being just another trophy, _Tamina thought. But perhaps she could use this man to keep the dagger safe? Her hand wandered to her sash where she had carefully hidden the sacred artefact. Apparently he didn't know of its existence. And he never would of that she would take care. With his help she could free her city and even without exposing Alamutian soldiers! With some chance he and his followers would be defeated too or at least weakened sufficiently so they could be forced to leave.

"What's your plan?" she asked intrigued. "We'll set up a trap and catch the princes to force Sharaman out of his lair. He'll be easy to defeat, he's an old man. His time is over." Koshkhan snorted in disdain. "And Persia will have a new leader! What say you my princess?"

Taminas thoughts were jumbled in her head. This surely was a way to get rid of her problem, but wasn't this Koshkhan a far greater danger to the Dagger of Time? Doubt kept nagging her. –"This seems a very interesting plan lord Koshkhan. How do you intend to execute it?"

" I'm sure your little 'escapade' hasn't gone unnoticed. Sharaman will try to get you back under his control. Your disappearance shortly after the conquest of Alamut will not be a good sign to the allies of Persia. Sharaman has to prevent that. We'll set an ambush right here at the temple so whoever is following you will be our key to the kings cooperation." "How do you know that he will send out the princes after me?" "Not all the princes. The elder are searching the desert for my soldiers and we've eluded them most efficiently for over a week now. The last one will be following your tracks. And that is my luck, because he's the favourite son, even if he's only trash scraped from the slums of Nasaf. Sharaman would do everything to keep him from harm. So if I manage to get my hands on him, I'll be able to control the king's actions and force him to do my bidding."

Tamina had to agree that this course of action was promising even if the man's words shocked her to the core. How could someone be so full of hatred? But that was the least of her concern, she had to keep the dagger safe. And this plan didn't need her sacrifice, did it? What role was she to play in this? "And what would be my task in this plan of yours?" she asked. "You would only have to distract your pursuer so that we can apprehend him." _Like you did with the villagers_, she mused.

"However … your contribution will be monetary as well… I need to pay my soldiers, so some of the gold stored in this temple will be mine." Koshkhan continued without noticing the change of expression in her features. _Perhaps this was what the gods had meant her to do_… "If I agree, you have to promise that you'll free the villagers and that you'll never ever set your eyes on my city. It'll remain untouched by your family as long as you will lead Persia!"

Laughter escaped Koshkhan. "You really are a hard negotiator my princess," he said grabbing her hand and brutally kissing it to seal their deal. "Our plan will be set to action tomorrow as my sentries have already detected your 'escort' drawing near. My guard will bring you back to the temple. Remember you have only to distract them long enough for us to get to them…"

As one of the guards led her back to the hidden temple she couldn't help but feel as a prisoner herself. Had she taken the right decision? Would this arrogant man keep his word? After all Persians weren't known for their loyalty… The king's brother himself was a shining example.

"I'll leave you here," the guard said and soon he had disappeared in the darkness. Thankfully he had rammed his torch between the stones at the entrance of the temple. It only provided a small circle of light, but somehow it lifted her spirits a little. Slowly the cold crept up her body making her shiver, but it was too late to gather material for a fire. She rapidly retrieved the rest of her provisions from her horse along with her bedroll and a woollen coat, then she climbed back up to the temple entrance. She had decided she would spend some time in prayer to reduce her agitation before retiring for the night. Prayer always calmed her down, giving her the strength to continue with her difficult task. After having performed the usual evening ritual, she sat down at the entrance to admire the beautiful landscape below her. The moon was already set, so the stars had no concurrence in the sky anymore. The sparkling had always had a mesmerizing effect on her. But today her thoughts kept wandering towards a Persian that unbeknownst to her wasn't too far away from her position. Her conscience kept nagging her. What had she done? He surely had destroyed part of her beloved city, but to help set an ambush to trap him wasn't a better action than what his uncle had done to him. He deserved punishment for what he had done to her city for the lives that had been destroyed, ruined by his actions. She couldn't go back now, what was done couldn't be undone. She had to protect the dagger at all cost. Perhaps this had been his destiny all along…


	14. Chapter 14

She must have drifted off at some point during the night, because the next thing she could remember was someone slightly touching her shoulder and a hand clasping her mouth. Tamina struggled on instinct fear gripping her heart. Her eyes flew wide open only to see a grinning prince signalling her not to scream before he released her. Her hands immediately flew to her sash where she had hidden the precious dagger. It was gone!

"Perhaps you are searching for this?" Dastan said flipping the object in his hand. "I'll keep it safe. Don't worry!" Before she could recover from her initial shock, the dagger had disappeared in his right boot, effectively hidden from all too curious eyes. With a sigh he continued, "Princess don't you think there's another solution than to sacrifice your life for a dull knife?"

"This is not the question. My sacred duty is to keep the dagger safe at all cost!" A now furious princess retorted. _How dare he!_ "You ignorant Persians you think you have the answer to everything! You don't know anything about us guardians and our sacred duty!" She threw up her arms while pacing to calm down some of her anger. How did he manage to get under her skin so easily? Somehow he knew exactly how to push her buttons. The idea irritated her even more. "How can you Barbarians know what is right for me to do and what not?"

A hurt look passed in the azure eyes that broke contact. The shaking of his head and the clenched jaw underlined how he felt about her insult, but as usual her being close made him struggle for a suitable answer. Seeing his reaction almost made her regret her outburst, almost. That is until his retaliation hit her directly. "I know your gods must be brutal and cruel if they demand human sacrifices!" "You…" Her answer was cut short as someone grabbed her from behind. Even as Dastan wanted to draw his sword to protect her from the unknown assailant he felt the cool blade of a dagger push against his throat. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. The man holding him nodded once and two more soldiers came out of the temple. In an instant the prince was relieved of his weapons, bound and dragged towards the edge of the platform.

"Sorry to interrupt your little lovers spat. Ah who have we got here?" a harsh voice asked. Dastan tried to distinguish the speaker out of the corner of his eyes, but even the slight movement of his head made the dagger nick his skin drawing a rivulet of blood. "Kosh. You coward! I'll kill you!" he ground out briefly struggling against the man holding him until he felt the pressure of the dagger increase on his skin.

"_Prince_ Dastan. Nice to meet you too." The warlord sneered and turning to a subdued Tamina he added, "nicely done my princess! You may come nearer! There's no danger for you any more."

Tamina was led towards the group. She couldn't stand Dastans shocked expression and pleading eyes. Disbelief was now clearly mirrored in them. _Why?_ They seemed to ask. She averted her gaze…

Koshkhan drew his attention back to himself. "You weren't alone. Where's the other rider?" No answer. Dastan had to let out a grunt as a fist connected with his gut. He wouldn't give Bis' position away. He had to buy him some time to make sure he could get away unharmed. "Answer me!" " Your vision must be impaired." Dastan spat out. – "I came here alone."

A second blow made him double over, but the sharp blade cutting in his skin almost immediately arrested his forward movement. He knew this was bad. He only could hope to get Bis enough time to get safely away from here and back on his way to Alamut. Perhaps he could find help, so they would avenge his death. For he was sure that Koshkhan wouldn't let him go… at least not while he was alive. He had been taught enough politics and strategies to be aware of the fact that him being hostage would be a point of leverage to get to his father and to stop his brethren from attacking these mercenary troops.

Kosh needed to get rid of them to achieve his thirst for power. _The dagger!_ The thought seemingly came out of nowhere. If the warlord knew of its time-altering faculty he would without doubt use it. He had to do something to prevent this from happening and if he died trying then so be it. The princess had been too eager to get rid of him as apparently she still believed him to be a danger to that cursed knife to think of the consequences shouldn't her plan work out as planned.

Then there was Tamina herself, it was not the guardian he was worried for. Kosh wouldn't let her go whatever she had made him promise. He was sure of that point. _Tamina_… What had she done? _Protect the dagger no matter what. That was my sacred duty._ The words echoed in his head. He understood the reasoning behind her actions, but it didn't make it hurt less as reality hit him squarely like a blow to the gut. She had sold him to his worst enemy without the blink of an eye. Sacrificed him to reach her goal. Like his uncle had. A bitter feeling wrapped self around his insides. He had been betrayed again, by someone he trusted, someone whom he had felt a special bond to. _You've forgotten that this Tamina isn't the same one that you've shared the previous adventures with. She's not aware of all that has transpired between the two of you then. She has no reason to believe you, a Persian assailant._ He was torn out of his dark brooding by Kosh.

"Take him to the camp. We'll get him to talk…" Without waiting for the execution of his orders Kosh turned to get back to his tent and his plans. The day promised to be a good one for him, judging by his successful trap. Soon he would be able to fulfil his destiny and be the new rightful ruler of the Empire. The people loyal to Sharaman would quake in fear and he would destroy them one by one. A satisfied smirk settled on his lips.

His men dragged the bound prince along shoving him brutally to make him stumble and fall to his knees only to be able to push him yet harder. They laughed at his clumsy attempts to get back to his feet. Dastan gritted his teeth in anger, if only he could free his hands, but his restraints were made of solid leather and each movement would only make his wrists rawer. So he simply tried to stay on his feet waiting for the moment to make an escape,

Tamina who was following them, led by yet another guard, winced every time she saw them hit Dastan. How could he take this? And in his still weakened state? What had she done to this man? She forced those ideas to the back of her mind, she had a mission to fulfil. Her own feelings didn't matter.

The way to the camp seemed far longer to her than it had been the previous evening. Tamina couldn't help but send a prayer to the gods. Hopefully they would inspire her a solution to her present dilemma. Her mission was clear. Protect the dagger. But deep inside she felt that by accepting Koshkhan's plans she had been wrong somehow. As soon as they would be back in his tent she would demand that she and the villagers be set free. The Persian would have to get away by himself or perhaps she could help him too. Her thoughts were confusing her greatly. The duty-bound guardian was battling with the sensible woman inside her head. She never had felt this contradictory to herself. What was happening to the selfless priestess that she used to be?


	15. Chapter 15

Many, many thanks to those who found the time to read and review, they make this writing stuff much easier and more fun. Without further delay, on with the story! Enjoy!

Only a few feet away, Bis lay hidden behind some rocks, seeing and hearing all that occurred… He felt rage build inside him. Anger tore at his insides at being unable to intervene and at Dastan for marching head first into this trap.

The evening before when they had reached the fateful valley Dastan had decided to go find the princess alone. Bis' protest had been overruled right before it could begin. "Promise me that should something happen to me, you'll take Aksh and get back to Alamut as fast as you can…" "But..." "No, Bis! Just promise me you'll do as you are told!" Feeling the urge behind Dastans words Bis had simply nodded. "I'll do as you ask. I promise. Even if I don't agree with your reckless plan. You should be more careful." They had settled down for the night and at dawn both had taken their positions.

Bis was wondering how could his friend possibly have known that this would happen? He had to find help as soon as possible or the prince's life would be forfeit of that he was sure. He had almost immediately recognized the warlord and he had felt the same feeling that Dastan had expressed. Koshkhan had brought misery to far too much families in the Persian Empire. He had to be stopped. But now was not the time for sulking around. Dastan needed his help more than ever.

Slowly, so as not to attract attention, he made his way back to where they had left the horses earlier. He had saddled them before setting out. This had apparently been a good idea. He wouldn't loose more time, that is if Aksh cooperated… The stallion eyed him attentively as he approached. That horse clearly had a mind of its own. The powerful black steed had been trained by prince Garsiv and seemed to have a special bond with Dastan, but he had never allowed anyone else on his back… not that the middle prince would have let anyone mount him… Bis approached him carefully, patting his neck. "Now, my friend, all depends on us…"

The horse inclined his head towards him and snorted, pawing with his hoof. Holding his breath, Bis mounted up after having wrapped the hooves in tissue to muffle their clattering on the stony path. He stroked the powerful neck as the horse snorted and started pacing sensing the added weight to his back. Then the stallion stilled his movements and as Bis felt the muscles tense underneath him he released his breath. Aksh had accepted him and was waiting for the signal to break into a canter. Even as he released the pressure on the reins, the horse extended his large frame and the road flew by under the staccato of the pounding hooves. Swiftly both of them made their way out of the narrow valley. As soon as they had left it behind Aksh fell into a faster gallop and Bis let him free to set his pace. Who knew how far they had to go to find allies? He would have to carefully manage the energy of his mount if it was to last for the whole journey to Alamut and back… but perhaps he would find help sooner. After all the two older princes were still roaming the desert for Kosh.

He wasn't a religious man, but in this seemingly desperate situation he sent a prayer to Ormazd asking for help for his friend.

It had been days since they had left the Holy City and yet there still was no sign of Koshkhan or his men. "Where is he hiding?" Garsiv's tone was exasperated. "A true warrior faces his enemies, he doesn't crouch and lay low to let danger pass him by!" With a hard hand he halted his horse. Offended to find its movement limited it reared. "You're right my brother!" Tus answered. "This seems like searching for a needle in a haystack. But I won't head back till the mission our beloved father has entrusted us with is fulfilled. We owe this to Dastan too." There had been no news from Alamut and both of them were worried. Not than they would ever voice their feelings. After all Dastan's condition had not been at its best when they had left. And since they had departed from the holy city no messenger had brought them good news. In fact there hadn't been a messenger at all. Their father must have been busy dealing with the consequences of their attack. Tus sighed. He would never hear the end of it. "We need to find a place to rest."

Garsiv nodded, his jaw firmly set, determination burning in his dark eyes. "We'll set up camp here and tomorrow we'll turn towards the eastern regions. The outskirts of the mountains offer numerous hiding places. We'll search the larger valleys." He turned towards Roham, who was acting as his aide. "Set up camp! We'll continue at dawn. Men and horses need a rest."

Soon the soldiers had set up a small camp. Most of them were weathered soldiers and used to living a Spartan life. They knew without taking orders what precautions they had to take. The fires were sparsely lit, so that they didn't catch the eyes of an unbidden observer. Guards circled the periphery of the tents to make sure they wouldn't be surprised by an attack during the night.

Garsiv and Tus shared a rather frugal meal in their tent. Both of them were brooding. Usually in these situations Dastan would make some silly joke, like spitting seeds at Garsiv, and they would laugh and be all right. But Dastan wasn't here. Perhaps he would never be again… The silence was heavy each of the two hanging on his own thoughts.

"Have you wondered too how he found out about uncle?" Tus asked not raising his eyes from the goblet of wine he was nursing. "Yes, but he always has a way of getting information no one else is privy to… "Perhaps living on the streets does that to you…" a very pensive Tus answered. "We'll ask him when we get back to Alamut." Garsiv proposed getting up. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another long day." Tus remained seated staring into nothingness. With a sigh Garsiv stretched his lanky frame on a bedroll and closed his eyes.

Dawn found them, already in the saddle, ready to start their hunt again. Around mid-day one of their scouts yelled something his outstretched arm pointing forward. He rapidly turned his horse to report to the princes. Moments later he was beside them. "There's a rider coming towards us. " Both of them looked in the direction the man had pointed trying to see what he had been pointing at… A rider was indeed approaching their group at neck breaking speed.

"This can't be…" Garsiv exclaimed. "I know that horse… It's Aksh." astonishment and anger mingled in his voice. Tus frowned in surprise looking at his brother, who was still trying to find out how he could be in front of his most precious horse when he had left it in the stables … of Alamut. Until now only one person had ever had the nerve to take it and survived his offence… "Dastan?" he muttered through gritted teeth ignoring the warm feeling of relief spreading inside him. His little brother had dared yet again to borrow his most prized warhorse! But if he had been capable of doing that then it meant that he was better than when they had left the city! It took Tus some time to realize the implications of Garsiv's outburst. His little brother was in for some serious injuries if Garsiv got a hold of him. Of that he was sure. Shaking his head at his youngest brothers action he couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips.

Meanwhile horse and rider had almost reached their position. By now the pounding of the powerful hooves of the black stallion could be heard the soil reverberating the vibrations and the sound.

Relief flooded Bis as he made out the large group of soldiers and cavalry in front of him. The royal banner of Persia was floating above it. _Tus and Garsiv_! _Ormazd must have heard his prayers! Perhaps there was still hope for Dastan then!_ He spurred Aksh to increase his speed even more. The horse obeyed whinnying. Aksh enjoyed running free far more than being stabled. Bis could feel the powerful strides beneath him. And the distance between the two parties decreased visibly. Hopefully prince Garsiv would let him explain why he was atop of his stallion before beheading him with his war axe! Bis sighed. "Where are Prince Tus and prince Garsiv? I need to speak to the princes at once," he yelled on top of his lungs ignoring the dust grating in his throat.

While his rider was still searching for the princes, Aksh directed his stride towards a group riding a little to the left of the main group of soldiers. He had already located his master. Moments later Bis reined him in and obediently the horse slid to a stop right next to Garsiv. "Bis?" Tus asked astonished while Garsiv remained speechless at the audacity of Dastans friend. To steal his, a princes, horse and to be so foolish as to show yourself in front of the owner. Bis didn't see the danger coming as he was distracted by Tus. A fist connected with his jaw and made him empty his saddle. Rubbing his burning jaw Bis looked up from his position to see two expectant faces.

"We need to hurry. Dastan needs you help… Koshkhan…" the words tumbled out of his mouth confusing the princes still further. "Slow down," Tus ordered. "Tell us how you can be here in the middle of nowhere, when you are supposed to watch over Dastan in Alamut?" "There's no time prince Tus! Dastan needs our help. He's been ambushed by Koshkhan… His life's in danger."

"Then what are you still doing down there?" Garsiv thundered. "Get in the saddle or I'll tie you to it. Lead the way!"

Quickly a smile made its way to Bis' lips. He was safe, for now…

"You'll explain what happened en route." Tus then turned towards his aide. "Send word to the king that Dastan's been captured by Koshkhan and that we're on our way to rescue him…"

Rapidly the fastest rider of the group had been given the freshest horse and he was on his way back to Alamut at full speed.

The rest of them set out under Bis' lead to get back to the valley of the sanctuary where Dastan and Tamina were. It took them almost twice the time to get there, because men and horses were tired and the baking sun wasn't helping even if those were hardened soldiers.


	16. Chapter 16

Only a short update this week. Harsh workload at the moment. Next week's update might be delayed, sorry. Hope you continue enjoying this. Thanks to those who care enough to leave some comment. You guys make me want to go on with this... No further delay...

"I hold you to your word, lord Koshkhan. You promised to release my people in exchange for the prince and the gold of the Temple," Tamina demanded once back in Koshkhan's tent. Her bearing once more that of the proud princess. "I…" A slap silenced her. "Quiet! Woman!" Koshkhan yelled. "Since when do women order men about in Persia?" Tamina had lost her balance and fallen down on some pillows strewn on the ornate carpeted floor of the tent. Tears sprang to her eyes as her hand nursed her already swelling cheek. "I'm not a slave girl. I'm capable of voicing my own thoughts." She always has to have the final say Dastan thought rolling his eyes. Even if in some situations like this one it wasn't the wisest move. He knew Koshkhan from his days at the court of Nasaf and he definitely wasn't the man to accept women speaking up. He had to intervene or Tamina would be at the receiving end of more than just a slap.

"Kosh, you bastard. I'm going to kill you!" he roared. In two strides Koshkhan was beside him his dagger drawn. "Tell me _prince_ why am I not simply gutting you like some vile pig? You should have stayed in the gutter, where you belong. I still don't understand why Sharaman enjoyed toying with you." Pure disgust was mirrored in his face as he eyed down the man before him. Dastan proudly held his head high not breaking the gaze. But his eyes had turned dark at the insults the warlord had thrown at him. Again he attempted struggling with the men restraining him. Tamina never had seen him that way. Gone were the warmth and the mirth that normally flooded his handsome features.

Kosh himself seemed seething. A cruel smile appeared on his thin lips as the blade had found its way to Dastans chest and was now slowly drawing a crimson path across it. The prince gritted his teeth at the searing pain that flooded his body, but no sound crossed his lips. He wouldn't beg for mercy, not now, not ever. Koshkhan wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Tamina's eyes had widened in horror as they locked with a pair of blue ones. A slight movement of the head stopped her hand that had been moving toward a nearby platter with fruit. A knife had been carelessly thrown upon it. Seeing Kosh's flaring anger Dastan raised his hands slightly in surrender. "Perhaps we can find another solution?" he proposed with the most innocent look he could muster. But Koshkhan seemed to have already changed his mind. "Bring him to the other prisoners. I'll deal with him later!"

A guard bound Taminas hands while Dastan was dragged out of the tent and led towards the part of the camp where the villagers were held.

"As for you, you'll make a fine addition to my distractions." Koshkhan had approached her and his face was now mere inches away from hers, as he gripped it forcing his lips on hers in a brutal kiss. She struggled trying to push him away with her bound fists, but he was far to strong. Changing tactics, she stilled her movements waiting for his next move. His right hand kept wandering lower, grasping her breasts as he tried to deepen the kiss. At that moment Tamina bit down on his lower lip drawing blood. A howl escaped Kosh. Holding his injured lip he stumbled backwards trying to stench the bleeding. The princess observed him with a satisfied smirk.

"Guards! Get her out of here." Two guards appeared out of nowhere and before she could react she was bound and dragged out to the tent where the female guardians of the village were held captive. There she was tied to a tent pole. As soon as the soldiers had left she started tearing at the ropes holding her, but a strangled cry escaped her as the material cut into her tender flesh. She was trapped here with no way out. The guards had made sure too that her position was a very uncomfortable one. She was sure she would be able to sleep this way. This gave her time to think about her situation.

This had to be a punishment of the gods for her previous deeds. At the moment she had thought forming and alliance with the warlord was a good plan, a manner to get rid of both him and the sons of Sharaman. But perhaps they weren't the real danger to her beloved city, even if they had destroyed it with their raid. She couldn't help but wonder.

The youngest prince had breached the impenetrable walls of Alamut and yet he had shown no interest in the dagger of time. Her thoughts went back to the night Dastan had explained her what had happened in the time before everything had been rewound. He had told her about the deaths including her own that had occurred because of the Dagger of time and had given her back the 'cursed knife' as he had called it. He had even warned her about the rogue guardian in the temple. Perhaps she had been blinded by her sense of duty, perhaps she had misjudged the facts? With a sigh she settled down as comfortably as she could with her hands tightly tied together. After sending a short prayer to the gods asking for forgiveness, she drifted off to sleep.

Dastan had been brought to the other prisoners. There were simply hobbled together like one used to do with camels. They had been left outside exposed to the chill of the night with no protection whatsoever. Even in the surrounding darkness he could see that some were wounded, others not. All of them seemed to have resigned to their fate. No one would come to their help, because no one knew of their existence except the High Guardians of the temple of Alamut and they didn't know what had happened here in the hidden valley. At least the dagger was still safe in the holy City or so they thought…

The prince was tied to a pole in the same way the others were hands high above his head and left there. His weapons had been taken from him but no one had thought to search for a dagger hidden in the double lining of his boots. Who would place such a dangerous tool in there and risk cutting himself whilst moving around?

Waiting for the guards to relent their attention he drew his knees up to his chest hissing as he hit the deep cut left by Koshkhans dagger. The wound in itself wasn't life-threatening but it hurt with every movement. It would seriously limit his ability to move and to fight though. He would have to keep fights as short as possible or better even avoid them. These thoughts crossed his mind while he waited for the throbbing in his chest to subside. From this position he would hopefully be able to get a hold on the dagger with some acrobatics and to cut the ropes holding his wrists. The dagger of time might be a dull knife but it was a knife nonetheless. Smirking he thought about the reaction of the princess if she were to find out the use he'd put her most precious artefact to.

As he rubbed his wrists against one another to loosen his ties the ropes left his skin raw. The guards had done a good job, this would probably take him all night.


	17. Chapter 17

Here's the next chapter for you, updating will take longer because I'm hitting a hard spot right now . Feel free to give me your impressions, they're always welcome and inspiring. I'm not too satisfied with this one, but I?ve decided to post it anyway.

Have a nice read at least I hope.

Hours later he had managed to cut his hands free, his wrists now chafed, open and bleeding at numerous places from the constant friction. The guards assigned to watch them had slowly dozed off, while he was set to his task. So now he could seize the opportunity and slowly slide towards the next prisoner. Surprised the man flinched, he too must have been sleeping. With one swift movement the ropes fell to the ground. Dastan continued his task till the last of the men were free. Getting back to the first one he'd freed he whispered. "Get away from here. If you get caught they will kill you all. Do you know a place where you can safely hide nearby?" The man simply nodded too astonished by this miraculous rescue the gods had provided them to be able to gather his thoughts to express his gratitude.

"Then get going. I'll take care of the guards. As soon as they're down, you run! Don't watch back!" Dastan continued in a low voice. "What about the other prisoners? They are in a tent somewhere in the middle of the camp. We can't leave them behind…" the older man asked now he had recovered from his surprise.

"I'll take care of them too. Don't worry." The prince answered with far more confidence than he felt. He had no other choice than to act on what he knew was right. His father's words came back to him even as the thought crossed his mind. The earlier timeline had taught him what the consequences could be if one didn't follow his own heart. He didn't want to repeat that harrowing experience now that he was given a second chance.

With that Dastan turned and slowly sneaked up on the guards. The man closest to him had effectively dozed off so he emitted no sound as the blade of the dagger swiftly put an end to his life. The second one must have heard the slight movement because he jumped and turned towards the prince his hands drawing his sword. The momentum took him right into the line of the blade that slid his throat open. With a gurgling sound he dropped dead. Crouching low to take cover from eventual onlookers or assailants he observed the camp displayed before his eyes. Nothing. His attack seemed to have been rapid enough not to attract any attention or perhaps the soldiers were too drunk to even notice something had happened and that their prisoners were getting away. Quickly he slid the Dagger of Time inside the outer fabric of his boots taking care to hide it from view. He had to make sure he wouldn't lose it during their escape or the princess would personally behead him, he was sure of that.

Turning towards the prisoners he could make out the forms of the villagers disappearing one by one behind the small bushes. The first part of his plan had worked out rather well, now came the more complicated one. Koshkhan's men were mostly asleep around the campfires. They looked rather ragged and in bad shape Dastan wondered why the warlord didn't take better care of his men. The Persian army was different. Every man had his daily rations of food and was taken care of if he was wounded. This was clearly not the case here. Garsiv would easily defeat them if they crossed his path. A smile appeared on Dastan's lips as he briefly envisioned his brother ploughing through them his war axe drawn like he had when he had tried to chase him down in Avrat. The fond smile rapidly morphed into a full fledged frown as this image stirred the dark memories of that past life.

While absorbed by his musings he noted that the sky was already getting clearer in the east. It must be later than he had expected. He quickly had to find the princess and bring her and the remaining prisoners to safety before the sun rose. The looks Koshkhan had thrown her hadn't escaped him. If he had read him right Tamina was in serious danger. Although she might merit to be taught a lesson for her treacherous plans. He was surprised at the anger he felt towards her, by now he should be accustomed to her backstabbing him. After all in the time he had turned back she had more than once left him for dead or in deadly face offs… He shook his head to clear his mind and to get it back on the task at hand.

Hurriedly he searched the body next to him and he found a small dagger and a rather battle-worn shamshir. In war you had to take whatever weapon you could, your life depended on it. Those weapons would do, even if they weren't of the finest quality like his own. Now that he was equipped he scanned the camp lying before him again. He remembered that the princess had been brought to a rather large tent right in the middle of it. He would have to wind his way around the sleeping soldiers to get to her… Slowly, stealthily he moved towards the outer ring of tents careful to keep as much advantage of the shadows as he could. The cut on his chest protesting on each suspended movement. It wasn't deep, Koshkhan had taken care of that not wanting to abridge his pleasure at torturing him, but nevertheless it hurt like hell. This would probably be another souvenir of his exploits as were the other numerous scars that already covered his body.

He had almost reached his goal when he stumbled over a tent peg. Cursing he managed somehow to regain his balance and to duck as deep in the shadows as he could. Waiting with baited breath he watched as a guard slowly passed him by without noticing the blade ready to strike him should he sound the alarm.

Fortunately his attention was diverted by some soldiers gambling and shouting loudly. Dastan released his breath. Only a few strides separated him from his target now, but he would have to cross the distance in the plain light of the fires with no cover to take advantage of. Squatting down to a crouched position he estimated the distance. Four leaps would have to suffice, else he would form an easy target. It took the guard only so much time to make his round… Taking two deep aching breaths before launching himself he managed to close the gap in only three strides and immediately dove under the canvas hiding himself effectively from view. No one had noticed the swift movement, even inside…

Lying still Dastan tried to assess the situation. It was very dark and at first he could only hear the regular breathing of several persons deeply asleep. Where was the princess? It took his eyes some time to adjust to the surrounding darkness. He could barely make out a slumped figure in the middle of the tent leaning against one of the tent poles. _Tamina!_ He crawled towards her his dagger between his teeth in case he would need it. With one swift movement he covered her mouth to prevent her from shrieking in surprise and he was almost immediately rewarded by a set of teeth biting down on his hand. A muttered curse escaped him. "It's me! Stop it!" he whispered near her ear and he felt the pressure on his hand diminish. "I'll cut your bonds. Just stay put." One push made the ropes give in. "Wait here!" he instructed.

She heard him move away and towards the exit of the tent. There she could distinguish his silhouette outlined by the reddish glow of a low burning fire outside. As he was about to slip back towards Tamina an alarm sounded. Dastan returned to the entrance and spied out to see what this was about. Outside a large group of soldiers had assembled and was apparently getting ready to depart. At the precise moment he resumed his watch, Koshkhan stepped out of his tent and mounted a large warhorse that his footman had brought. Not loosing any time he ordered his men to follow him.

_What were they planning?_ Dastan's mind kept racing… There could be only one reason they were leaving in such a hurry. They intended to go on another raid, but where? Looking back inside he could distinguish the princess in the shadows, her face now softly lighted by the glow of the fires outside as he kept the flap of the tent slightly open to see the preparations for the departure. Then suddenly it dawned on him. _Alamut!_ Koshkhan must have decided to attack the city now that the walls were breached and easy to overcome. How had he known the city was an easy target? They had to hurry to prevent the massacre that would take place if the warlord succeeded. But they had to lay low until these men had left the camp. Else the villagers would make easy targets for the riders. It didn't take long until they heard the last men of the large group depart.

Dastan decided to wait as long as possible before he took the guardians to safety. After all Koshkhan could come back. While he was keeping track of what happened outside Tamina observed the prince. She couldn't help but wonder at the behaviour of this Persian. She had betrayed him, sold him to his enemy even and yet here he was trying to free her? Lost in her thoughts it had escaped her that the prince had disappeared in the darkness again. With a start she realized that he was no longer there. Had he changed his mind? Panic gripped at her heart and she decided to flee all by herself now that she was no longer tied down. She was a princess after all and very capable of taking care of herself! Even as she prepared to get out she sensed a movement to her left that made her tense.

"Not leaving without me are you, princess?" She could hear the smile in his voice. A snort was all the answer he got. She wouldn't show him her relief. "We'll have to leave by the way I came in, through the back. Else our departure will be noticed immediately." "What about the other prisoners? We can't leave them here. They'll be defenceless!"

Suppressing the urge to object that she seemed never to have any second thoughts about leaving him behind, he simply retorted: "Clever princess." He smirked pushing the hurt he felt about that fact to the back of his mind. "They'll leave with us. I've already cut their shackles…" "Such a thoughtful prince!" she muttered clearly annoyed at his easy repartee, but incredibly relieved that the villagers might get saved after all.

"You'll stay here and send them out one by one. I'll wait for them on the other side. From there they can slip away and follow the other villagers to safety." Dastan explained under his voice. "We have to get going, princess. Dawn is near. Soon the soldiers will wake and we'll get discovered." He urged a somewhat distracted Tamina. Without losing further time Dastan slid silently to the back of the tent signalling the prisoners to follow.

He made his way out careful to locate the guard and the prisoners filed out of the tent after him. Dastan kept watch on the other side, warning every prisoner of the arrival of the guard so that the path to freedom was secure. Soon the princess was left alone and her heartbeat was pounding so loudly to her own ears that she feared it could be heard by Koshkhan himself on the other side of the camp. She could see the prince gesturing for her to get going. Rapidly she joined him a smile tugging at her lips. She noticed a matching smirk on the prince's lips. _What a pair they made!_ After seeing him in action she could almost believe the adventures of the rewound time he had told her. The peaceful moment came to an abrupt halt as a shout disrupted the night.

"To arms! We're under attack!" The smile instantly froze on Dastan's face. They must have found the guards he had taken care of earlier. This wasn't the time to hide in the shadows any more. They would have to dash through the encampment without looking back. With a rather hard shove he urged Tamina to leave their current hiding place. "Run, princess, run! We've to get out of here!" Tamina tried to run as fast as she could, Dastan hard on her heels while the camp around them erupted into chaos.


	18. Chapter 18

Suddenly a war horn blared somewhere in the distance. The prince slid to a stop. Turning backwards he noticed the black and gold banners floating in the dim light of dawn. "That's Garsivs men!" Dastan yelled full of joy. He made Tamina duck behind a large rock. "Stay here!" Knowing this would make her protest he added rapidly, "The villagers need you. Wait for five minutes after I'm gone then take them to the temple. I will cover your back!" Drawing his sword he readied himself to enter the battle with a grim look settled in his eyes. Tamina had never seen them so cold and full of pugnacity. He lost no time throwing himself into the middle of the ongoing battle. _The Lion of Persia_, she thought. _How fitting!_ What a puzzling man this prince could be…

Pushing every thought of the princess to the back of his mind he focused on the battle. Swordfight was erupting all around him. Blades clashed with screeching sounds of metal scraping against metal. Engaging the soldiers that came at him he knew he had to save his energy. He wasn't back in his usual shape yet and Kosh had given him one more wound to worry about and hinder him during the fights. So instead of charging head on as was his usual fare when in the thick of combat, he chose to wait till his adversary was on him before crossing blades. Concentrating on the moves of his sword the world around him vanished in a blur of colours, distorted movements and shouts of agony. Time only resumed its normal flow when he saw the face of his opponent turn blank each time his sword dealt the final blow.

Looking up he could make out Tus' white stallion launching himself into the thickest crowd. His master wielded a bloodied sword already. Right by his side Garsiv was mowing down soldiers to every side with his usual heavy-handed but yet so efficient technique. It made a smile appear on Dastans face. His brothers! Always there when he needed them.

His attention was drawn to a shadow crossing his field of vision. He turned on instinct rising his sword at the very last moment to deflect a huge blow. The momentum made him stumble backwards. His eyes locked with a gaze full of hatred. The next hit was already coming his way, the sheer force of it making him wince and fall back. "You'll die!" The warrior, in whom he recognized one of the aides of Khoshkhan, yelled taking a step back to adjust his aim. Gasping Dastan barely managed to protect himself raising his blade, the wind knocked out of him. His vision blurred slightly. Aware that he had to end this soon or he would fail, he pushed his enemy away with a powerful roar. He fell forward as his knees buckled under the strain. His hands opening instinctively steadied him, but he had lost his shamshir. Taking no time to catch his breath again, he struggled to get up again just as a blade bit his arm leaving a searing pain. His hands clutching at the ground to draw himself up a kick got him in the gut. Rolling on his back gasping for air he found the man standing over him sword held high ready to spear him up. He didn't break the gaze as his hands searched frantically for a weapon he could use to defend himself. His fingers closed on a broken spear. Rising it by mere instinct as his adversary dove towards him he closed his eyes waiting for the pain to come. Everything faded to darkness as a heavy weight crushed his body drawing all air from his lungs.

The battle was finally over. Bis sighed, his hand nursing a nasty cut on his upper arm. He scanned the battlefield. Not much remained of the camp they had found the only hours before their attack. The ground was now covered with bloodied and battered bodies, the remains of most of the tents smouldering heaps, a grey biting smoke floating lazily in the air. Here and there scattered horses whinnied fearfully, some limping around their reins still in the hands of their dead master. Screams of agony could be heard.

_Where was Dastan?_ Bis hadn't seen him during the battle. Worried he scanned the battlefield. Not too far away he could distinguish prince Garsiv now wearing a nice gash on his right cheek, blood smeared all over his face. His horse standing next to him pawed nervously at the ground. Tus was standing nearby holding his steed by the bridle and discussing something animatedly with Roham.

A movement to his right caught his attention. As he directed his gaze towards it he recognized princess Tamina moving through the chaos, horror clearly etched on her beautiful features. _No wonder, Dastan had fallen for her. Perhaps she'd know where he was._ Sword still firmly in hand, he made his way towards her.

Absorbed as she was by the dreadful scenery she didn't notice him till she almost bumped into him. Her hand flew up in a protective gesture, dagger tightly clasped, making Bis take as step back and raising his hands. "It's only me princess, Bis," he offered hoping she would recognize him before it was too late for him. "Have you seen prince Dastan?" She simply shook her head, tears springing to her eyes. "He freed the prisoners and then he disappeared in the throng of the battle. I haven't seen him since." She mused tonelessly, her eyes unfocused flicking restlessly over the massacre displayed before her. _So much blood, death surrounding her…_ it made her almost choke. She could understand the wrath of the gods now. _Mankind was barbaric. At least those Persians were… Some of them._ Seeing prince Dastan fight for the guardians' life and even hers, despite her despicable actions had somewhat changed her view of him. _He definitely didn't match any of the categories she'd tried to confine him to_…

"Are you alright princess?" Bis asked concerned seeing the state Tamina was in. First battles tended to do that to people, he knew from his own experience. "What? Yes I am. We need to find your prince," she snapped somewhat irritated. Both moved trough the camp trying to make out the distinctive silhouette of the youngest prince.

Bis had almost rounded the camp when he recognized the ornate armour of the man known to be the right hand of Koshkhan. With two strides he was beside him. The man had been run through with a broken spear, no doubt by his own momentum as he tried to finish off his adversary. Had he succeeded? Fear gripped his heart as he recognized the still form buried beneath. "Dastan!" he gasped, kneeling down and feeling for a pulse. It was there, right under his fingers, beating steadily. Relief flooded him. Only unconscious. He immediately tried to free his unfortunate friend from the body pinning him down. The man's dead eyes swept the world without seeing it any more as he rolled to the side, his head lolling limply.

"He's here! I've found him!" Bis shouted, drawing the attention of the princes and Tamina. He tried to rouse him shaking his shoulder slightly. "Dastan!" A grimace rewarded him and the princes eyes slowly fluttered open. "Don't shout! I'm not dead yet!" he mumbled slightly disoriented shaking his head to clear his vision. "Help me up!" Dastan got to his feet swaying, Bis steadying him. "You know this is embarrassing, Bis. Well at least you didn't loose your allowance this time!" The prince snickered and both of them broke into laughter at their inside joke. "Brothers!" he exclaimed full of joy at seeing his two elder siblings approach. They fell into each other's arms relieved to be re-united after having accomplished their mission oblivious to all around them.

Tamina stood frozen some feet away. The usually calm and collected princess was ton between relief and guilt, anger and hurt. _She didn't belong here. She wasn't part of that family. She wasn't part of any family. She was alone!_ Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes as she turned on her heels and hurried towards the temple – her sanctuary. She almost broke into a run, the distance didn't grow fast enough to her liking. Her vision blurred, she stumbled more than once scraping her hands on the rocks. As she reached the hidden cavern sobs racked her slender form. _She'd failed. The sacred mission that had been appointed to her, she hadn't been able to fulfil it. She was a failure. What an unworthy guardian she made!_

Instinctively she knelt down beginning the ritual prayers. The dim light of the place had a soothing effect too.

No one had noticed the princess departure, except Bis who had been standing a little aside too. He had seen the conflicting emotions flicker across her face and recognized some of them. He too sometimes felt left out when the three princes were together, but that feeling never lasted long, thanks to Dastan. "Bis, my friend! What are you doing here all by yourself?" Dastan caught him in a warm embrace. "Thank you for saving us. Even if it was at the peril of your life, his side glance towards Garsiv didn't go unnoticed and all four of them laughed heartedly. "Dastan!" Bis interrupted the joyful reunion. "The princess…" A frown appeared on the prince's face. "Where is she?" he asked concerned. "She left in a hurry, my best guess is the village," Bis retorted. "Thanks!" Dastan knew where she would hide, he hurried towards the temple leaving three wondering men behind. Garsiv shook his head in amusement and Tus bowed his head to hide a smirk. _Who'd have thought?_


	19. Chapter 19

Back again... Well here's a short chapter before things start to get serious... Sorry for the delay, but I hit some bumps on the road. Still working on them though. Feel free to comment after reading... Suggestions always welcome ...

The prince was oblivious to all that happened behind his back, his thoughts churning. What was she planning? His feets couldn't get him fast enough to the hidden cave. Frustration and adrenaline fuelled him and helped get on the upper platform leading towards the sanctuary.

"Tamina!" The cry escaped his lips even as he entered the room. Tamina struggled to get to her feet to face him angrily wiping at her cheeks. She didn't want to be seen like this. At least not by the man standing in front of her.

Dastan stood seemingly frozen at some distance. Worry clearly visible on his face. For some horrid moments, just before entering this place his mind had conjured the idea that she'd run off to sacrifice herself, that the battle had confirmed her in her resolve to end all this by returning the dagger. That is until he'd realized that the dagger was still safely tucked into his boot.

Now, studying her features, he could clearly see the streaks of the tears on her face and he'd noticed her hurried attempt at hiding them from him. At this moment he forgot the anger he felt towards her and in two strides he stood next to her almost crushing her frail silhouette in a powerful embrace.

He understood what she was feeling, he had felt it too before being adopted by king Sharaman: the loneliness, the all encompassing despair. Those feelings had been his constant companions for years while on the streets and much more recently in the rewound time when he had thought his family had abandoned him.

Tamina had tensed at the sensation of being embraced. It didn't happen often that people dared touch the high priestess. She had a direct link to the gods after all, it would have been blasphemous. Nevertheless despite her initial tension she relaxed into the heart warming feeling of not being alone, of being protected… Even as the realization hit her anger grew inside her. She liked to feel strong and independent and right now every onlooker would have thought her a frail woman in need of protection. Still somewhat regretfully she pushed the prince back and immediately she felt the tension in the muscular chest underneath her hands.

"Forgive my boldness, princess" he said in a neutral voice trying to mask the hurt nagging at his heart. "I briefly forgot my place. But we need to get back to the others. We need to return to your city as fast as we can. It is in great danger. Koshkhan plans an attack and the city is vulnerable now… even with the protection of the Persian army…" Tamina felt a strange disappointment as the prince stepped back, but his words made her rapidly dismiss his reaction. Her beloved city was in grave danger and she wasn't there!


	20. Chapter 20

Ok guys here's chapter 20. Wow, never planned to get there... It may contain som etypos and other funny things, wrapped it up late last night. So two chapters to go till this is over... There might be a sequel depending on the echos for the closing chapter... Have a nice read. Comments as always welcome...

Their journey had been a harrowing one like during all the previous days, heat and hurry had used up all their energy and when finally the time had come to stop for the night everyone had felt relieved. Quickly camp had been set up and the men had settled down. They knew they had to gather energy for the following days, so the camp had been set up everyone diligently prepared for the night. No doubt their princes would keep it a short one and dawn would find them well on their way towards the Holy City of Alamut… again.

During their meal Dastan had kept mostly silent while Tus and Garsiv kept exchanging ideas about what strategy would be best to attack Koshkhan. They were sure Sharaman would've drawn a plan to keep the city safe while waiting for their arrival. Tamina felt strange watching the two men argue about tactics. Was this similar to what had happened on the eve of their first attack on her city? She couldn't help but picture them with their infamous uncle… but how did the youngest prince fit in? He didn't seem to have any interest in their exchange and yet it was him who had brought down the protective walls of Alamut almost single-handedly… Now he seemed lost deep in thought, worried even… Tamina cast furtive glances in his direction every now and then, trying not to get caught openly staring at him. After all hadn't she been taught princesses didn't stare?

"We can't go in like this! It will cost us most of our men!" Tus suddenly yelled jumping to his feet. Garsiv's angry stare didn't impress him. He knew his younger brother too well. Knew that he was worried about their father as was he, Tus. Tamina's attention had been diverted from her musings towards the two princes staring each other down when a sudden movement to her left made her turn just in time to see Dastan leave the tent without saying a word. _What was going on?_

During their whole journey towards Alamut, Dastan had withdrawn further from all of them regularly seeking solitude. He seemed restless, urging his horse from dune to dune scrutinizing the horizon, staring worriedly at sand dervishes and letting out a breath he surely wasn't aware of holding when they dissolved into nothingness. He carefully avoided every question as to his strange behaviour leaving his brethren wondering about their little brother. Even his best friend Bis couldn't seem to understand what was going on.

The next day, Tamina and Bis were riding behind Tus and Garsiv letting their mounts follow the pace set by the two leaders. This allowed them to observe the youngest prince without being too obvious. By the attitude of his friend Bis knew something was amiss, but usually Dastan would confide in him. Usually, but the events they had encountered lately were far from usual… And Dastan had changed. Bis sighed, hoping that when time was right he would get to the heart of this. At least of that he was sure. A smirk crossed his face as his gaze fell to the princess riding beside him. She was so absorbed in her observation of the youngest prince, she wasn't even aware of Bis' staring. She too seemed to wonder about that strange behaviour, perhaps he could tell her some of their adventures, so she could understand better what made him tick…

"Princess… Perhaps I should tell you a tale… Bis said nudging his horse nearer to the one the princess rode. "This isn't the moment" Tamina interrupted him more harshly than intended and kicked her horse to a faster trot. She felt that he only meant well, all his previous actions toward her had shown her that. He'd tried to ease her growing feeling of exclusion around the Persian princes, and especially Dastan who seemed to withdraw further every day, but she felt that she had to get away from this far too observant man. She felt heat creep to her cheeks at her embarrassment. He surely had caught her red-handed. _What was she thinking? Openly staring at him like he was some curious beast, well a very good looking one…_ _Oh gods!_ She had only spent such a short time in the company of the Persians and already her education was slipping and she had begun to act as disrespectfully as they were… _Think of your duty! About the danger your city is in… _

Bis wondered what thoughts bothered Dastan so much. It couldn't be the wellbeing of the princess any more because she was safe with them… It couldn't be the battle they were riding towards, they had seen their fair share of them and never had he appeared to be distressed… Bis cursed his need to distance himself from everyone effectively shutting them out. The princess on the other side… A smirk crossed his face as he remembered as her cheeks had flushed in a deep pink as he had disturbed her. Apparently his best friend wasn't the only one discovering new emotions and battling them. Shaking his head at those complicated attics he too urged his horse to a faster pace.

The night had caught up with them rather quickly that day, because of a sandstorm that had grazed their path. So they had been forced to make camp earlier to protect themselves from the irritating grains of sand penetrating every fold and every hole. Nevertheless it had been a good omen hiding their approaching troops from the enemy. The city of Alamut was within marching distance. Their journey would be over tomorrow.

Not wishing to relive the fateful evening before the first battle and the humiliating argument he had had with Garsiv and Tus. Dastan had settled at some distance from the others on a fallen tree. The rocky plateau that they'd set their encampment on overlooked the majestic valley of the Holy City. Far below Dastan could distinguish the small fireplaces of the Persian army surrounding the city, especially in the places where the walls had been breached during their raid. Judging by the number of lights, the army had been partially drawn inside the city so as to lull the enemy into a false sense of power. Sharaman had always been a great war stratege, always trying to spare as much lives as he could – enemy or his own army- it didn't matter. Dastan had always admired his empathy and he tried his best to live up to his father's role model. At some distance in the East he could distinguish more fireplaces. No doubt Koshkhan's men…

Tomorrow there would be a large bloodshed and many of them wouldn't live to see another sunrise. He shuddered and wondered at the thought. _Where did that come from? Normally he didn't ask himself questions before a battle, he simply acted, fulfilled the orders he was given. No time to pause and think when your adversary tries to cut you to pieces_… He had changed, definitely changed during that journey in the lost time…

His thoughts were interrupted by the noise of a rolling pebble. Instinctively his hand went to the hilt of his dagger. Someone was coming. A very distinctive footfall neared his watch point one that he would recognize everywhere. A light smile graced his face briefly before his jaw set grimly again. He mustn't think of her, not before battle…

"Your Highness should be resting right now. There'll be no time for that tomorrow. "

"Dastan?" Her hesitant tone took him off guard. Where was the proud even arrogant ruler of the Holy City? His gaze went scrutinizing the darkness. She stood some feet away from him her posture signalling her interior debate. He could clearly see her mind was as troubled as his own. With a small inviting gesture, he indicated a rock not far away from his position.

Tamina settled herself on the uncomfortable place, grateful he hadn't simply sent her away. She was nervous about this. She wanted to understand what drove this man. He was a riddle to her. _How could he change so easily? From conqueror to saviour, from warrior to counsellor…_ She needed to know more, to try to decipher/follow his reasoning… Taking a deep breath to strengthen her resolve she turned towards the man only to find him staring at the distant campfires again. No doubt his mind was set on the upcoming battle and the consequences it might bring.

"Prince…" That got her his attention. "May I ask you something?" A simple nod urged her to go on… "What made you want to save my city?" she blurted out. A look of surprise crossed his face, making her try to explain more precisely what she meant. "Your troops were far superior to those of Alamut. You could have easily destroyed us, yet your actions preserved many lives and most of the city…" His gaze took on a far away look. No doubt he was reminiscing the events of that day.

"We had had a war council the evening before. The proof against your city was overwhelming. Yet something was off. We discussed the best way to proceed and my objections were overruled. I'd begged Tus to be permitted to lead the attack, but he gave it to Garsiv arguing that I wasn't experienced enough to lead the Persian army. Maybe he was right…" Dastan played absentmindedly with a twig he had found on the soil. "However I decided it was time for me to show them I was a warrior as worthy as them. So I lead my squad of "street rabble" as Garsiv likes to call them to the Eastern Gate. If I could spare some of our men's lives by doing so, all the better!" A slight chuckle escaped the princes lips and Tamina rose an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Rozam almost nailed me to your city wall with one of his arrows …" Seriousness claimed his traits once more as he continued. "We had almost succeeded when your palace guard arrived, so I had to find a way to stop them. I climbed on the scaffold holding the boiling oils to stop your men and the instant before I plunged I looked up taking in the whole city. It was dawn and the first rays of the rising sun bathed the whole scene in a surreal light. To my left I could see the raging battle, hear the screams of dying men, but before my eyes … there was something …" he paused as if searching for the correct wording and he looked up right into her eyes "…special. A serenity and peace emanated from the city that stopped me right there in my tracks. I knew what I was doing was right. This place had to be protected." The fervour in his gaze made her shiver and feel uneasy as he looked straight into her eyes. Tamina was thankful that she was standing in the shadows or else she would have had quite some reason to be embarrassed, judging by the heat of her cheeks. She had to say something! Quick! "Then why didn't you stop the attack _prince_?" "I… I…" he felt at loss for words. _How could she question his actions?_ He felt his anger rise. That stubborn woman had to question everything, always. _How dare she?_ "Not everyone has a whole army of servants at his feet with one snip of his fingers _princess_. It isn't always possible to stop events unfolding! Sometimes you are helpless… but someone born into wealth and nobility wouldn't know that!" With one withering glare he stood and left her standing there mouth agape… _What did he mean? How could he, a prince of an Empire as large and powerful as Persia talk to her about poverty and helplessness?_ If anything she was more confused now than before…

"Princess?" The simple address startled her out of her musings. Turning her head she noticed Bis standing a few feet away observing her and trying to guess her thoughts. Had he heard the exchange between her and Dastan? She wanted to rise, but a gesture of the footman invited her to stay put perching himself comfortably on the log Dastan had occupied not long before. "Perhaps I should tell you a tale… if it is the moment that is…" Bis expertly hurled her words back at her. Tamina felt she deserved this as her attitude towards the man had been less than friendly. "Go on… please…" "A long time ago, in a land far away there was a king. His reign was blessed. His actions were wise and just. His brother, the vizier, took care of the execution of every order he gave. This king had two sons …" Stopping briefly to assure himself that he had her attention, Bis continued… "But one day destiny guided his horse to the poorest part of the city and there he witnessed an act that was worthy of a king. A young orphaned boy had defied the royal guard and put himself in danger to prevent them from unjustly punishing an even younger street urchin. The younger one had played on the street and jumped in front of the leader's horse making it rear and thus the captain had emptied his stirrups…" Tamina was captured by now. This wasn't some invented story to keep her busy and out of the way. She was sure Bis was in his very own manner giving her the solution to the riddle named Dastan. So she intently listened on and slowly the pieces of the puzzle fell into place…


	21. Chapter 21

Well sorry for the long wait, but this chapter didn't really come out as I wanted it too. After re-re-re-writing parts and bits I've decided to call it quits and to post it the way it is. I'm not too satisfied with it, but it will have to do. One more chapter after this one and we'll be at the end of this story. Not sure you'll like it though… the ending I mean… I have to thank you all for the great reviews and as always I'd much appreciate your comments and ideas about this part of the story.

Ok I've made you wait long enough…

Some days earlier… briefly after sunrise.

Asoka had been praying in the temple searching for some divine advice on how to handle the situation at hand. With the princess astray he needed to make some important decisions on behalf of the defence of the city. Despite the good work that the Persians were completing on reinforcing the breached parts of the walls the city would remain vulnerable to any enemy attacking the once impenetrable gates. King Sharaman seemed to be genuinely interested in preserving Alamut and its inhabitants but he couldn't accomplish miracles … no one could. Asoka sighed. He moved to the outer chamber of the temple to get his weapons he had deposited there before prayer. No one was allowed into the inner sanctum armed, not even the most trusted guard of the High Priestess.

It was time to inspect the progress made by the workers on the Eastern Gate. The potent doors had been seriously damaged during the attack and some parts needed to be replaced and reinforced. As soon as he would finish the inspection of the new recruits of the royal guard he would head down there and see how the men accomplished the task they had been set. He never even made it to the first part of his programme, as soon as he set foot out of the door a Persian footman came hurrying towards him. "Sire, King Sharaman requests your presence in the throne room…" _So much for getting his job done…_ he mused. "Tell him I'm on my way." With a nod the man hurried off in the direction he came from.

"Ah Asoka, my friend, come here we have to make some plans for the defence of your city… Warlord Koshkhan seems to be planning an attack." The king said as soon as he saw Asoka enter the room. His expression must have been one of wonder, because the older man immediately added: "My sons have sent a messenger attesting of the presence of the warlord in a secluded valley several days from here. He's gathering his troops …" _While he's probably taking pleasure in torturing my son_, his mind added. Aloud he added: "We need to be prepared as best as we can. It will be impossible to repair the damage to the outer walls, but we might nevertheless be able to defend the city until my sons arrival with the rest of the Persian army." _And hopefully Dastan_… Sharaman was concerned about his youngest son, but he knew he couldn't do anything but pray for his well being from where he was. Dastan had somehow sensed the importance of this city and the need to protect it, so would he … "Let's inspect the outposts and see how we can post our troops." The king rose to his feet and immediately his footman hurried away to prepare his horse. He didn't need to be ordered to do so, because the elderly man never walked, but instead chose to ride his horse most of the time.

By the time the got outside two horses were waiting for them, patiently chewing on their bits. Asoka couldn't help but admire the gorgeous horse the king had chosen to ride. Being an accomplished horseman himself he knew a fine horse when he saw one and the dark horse whinnying as it saw its rider was definitely a decent mount for the King of Persia. Noticing the appreciative gaze Sharaman couldn't help but smile at the reaction the young man was showing. When this was over, they would have to spend some time discussing horse breeding one of his greater passions. He was sure that discussion would be very pleasant. Not delaying the inspection any longer he swiftly swung himself into the richly embroidered saddle and turned towards the gates not waiting for the young man who hurried to follow him.

Seeing this Asoka empressed himself to mount his own horse and in no time both were galloping towards the outer ring of walls that once so effectively protected the Holy City and now were its weakest part. The next hours were spent discussing defence tactics and troop movements. The king appreciated the skills of the man riding along his side. Asoka was well versed in the art of war. As they rode along the outposts he pointed out the strength of the Alamutian soldiers, but also their weaknesses. This kind of honesty and openness was rarely seen in such precarious alliances as theirs. Sharaman could see that this man lived for the well being of the city and the people entrusted to him. The High Priestess was fortunate to have such a good advisor at her side. A sigh escaped his lips. The memories of his brother and his treacherous actions were all too vivid in his mind. Shaking those thoughts off, he concentrated on the explanations given by Asoka and made some adjustments himself, placing Persian soldiers where the rows of Alamutians were too thin stretched. He suggested to draw some regiments inside the city walls to keep them hidden from all too inquisitive eyes. They would form a major asset during the battle to come because the enemy wouldn't expect their presence and be overrun by them. That is if the warriors of the two armies managed to fight side by side. They had been taken by surprise when their former enemies had been declared allies in mere hours and some still held grudges. Brawls had started at almost regular intervals and had swiftly and severely been punished.

As soon as Sharaman and Asoka had completed their self-set task they returned to the palace to conclude their day with a light dinner. Both men shared a common passion: horses and once the official tasks had been taken care off they enjoyed an animated discussion about their favourite passion. Asoka provided information about the horses of the guardians and their breeding and suggested a visit to the stables for the next day. The King readily accepted and both agreed upon a trip to the royal stables near Nasaf once Khoskhan was taken care of.

The next days were spent in a similar fashion and soon, too soon for the people of Alamut, the

enemy would be spotted by the outposts. No news about the whereabouts of the three princes had been received since the messenger announcing the pending menace had arrived in the city and everyone was worried about the disappearance of the High Priestess. Rumors animated the streets and the markets daily. Asoka sighed as he lead his horse through the small passages around the market, as soon as the people spotted him the talks ceased and everyone observed him intently. He wasn't sure if it was because of his failed mission or because they saw some kind of traitor in him for working with the Persians. But surely this could become a problem with the menace of an imminent attack pending. How would they react, would they be willing to help the Persian soldiers or would they turn on them leaving them between two fronts? There was no telling… All he could hope for was the safety of the dagger and its guardian. He pushed his mount forward towards the nearest gate. His self-set mission was to control the outposts daily it allowed him to get out of the city and away from the council, so he relished these brief escapes deeply.

It didn't take him long to round the sentries set around the city and as the day still was early he decided to push farther towards the mountains to survey the stretch of desert surrounding the valley of the Holy City. From his spot he could see the majesty of the High Temple gleaming in the sunlight. It was a view he hoped would remain even after the oncoming battle. His horse's impatient clawing brought him back to the present and he turned towards the sea of sand that had always been a protection, but lately had become the source of danger to the Alamutians.

Far to the east he could distinguish a large cloud of dust billowing over the simmering sand. He rose in his stirrups to get a better view, but he already knew this meant they didn't have much more time to complete their defence strategies. They enemy would be upon them before the repairs would be done, leaving wide gaps in their lines. As he turned his horse to ride back to the city, he distinguished another cloud of dust somewhat smaller behind the first one. A smile briefly lit his face. Perhaps they wouldn't have to face Koshkhan all by themselves after all… He urged his horse back towards the outposts and ordered them to keep an eye to the East and to report every movement they detected there, before striding back to the palace at full speed.

He didn't slow his horse as he passed the gate, assured that the guards would recognize him, neither did he as he came to the more populated parts of the city. Angry shouts accompanied his neck breaking race as people had to jump out of the way in order not to be injured of worse. Asoka didn't care, he had to inform the king of his discovery. His horse's hooves pounded the plastered streets and came to a sliding stop in front of the palace. A footman caught the reins as the captain of the temple guards jumped out of the saddle and hurried up the steps. He heard the man cursing behind him seeing the state the horse was in, but he didn't care right now...

The king was praying in his chambers as he was interrupted by shouting moments before the heavy wooden doors burst open to reveal a dishevelled looking soldier. It took him only seconds to realize it was Asoka and to swallow the angry outburst he was about to let loose. The man normally didn't behave in such an uncivilized manner, so something must have happened.

Bowing low after having broken almost all the rules of courtly etiquette, he breathlessly tried to relay his newly gathered information. "My lord…" The indulgent smile spreading upon the kings' face calmed his worry somewhat. Sharaman turned towards a small table and poured some wine and reached it to the man. "Here drink some and then explain why you come bursting through my doors like some crazy sand dervish…"

About two hours later the news had spread through the whole palace and started its way down to the city. Soldiers were preparing their gear, people started gathering their belongings to get as far from the danger as possible without leaving the protection of the city. The king had been pleased to hear that his sons were probably not too far away and that somewhat made the idea that at dawn he would have to head into battle again bearable. Years ago he had resigned to the fact that at his age he wasn't as alert any more than he had been as a young man. He had stepped back from the battlefield and his sons had always represented him well, except when they had disobeyed and taken Alamut … with the exception of Dastan perhaps… Dastan …

Present day

Near the city at dawn…

The night had been a restless one for Dastan, he had kept replaying his discussion with the princess in his mind and he was nowhere as calm as he usually was before an impending battle. Today this journey would come to an end and he dreaded it. The danger his men would be in, his family … Tamina… He shook his head trying to clear it. "… and we will attack Khoshkhan as planned." Tus shot him a worried look from the side. It was almost unsettling to see his little brother sitting in the saddle of Garsiv's most prized horse wearing more armour than he had ever seen him in. Bis couldn't help but smirk as he noticed the look.

"So my brother Garsiv will lead the main attack and my brother Dastan and I will slit our men to converge on Khoshkhan from both sides, so he'll have to fight on four fronts and hopefully victory will be ours soon…" Tus trailed off noticing the noise of hooves approaching their position. Turning in his saddle he could make out the slender form of the princess perched awkwardly on a large brown steed. "Princess! What are you doing here? You were told to stay in my tent and to wait for the outcome of the battle… " "Prince Tus, this is my city that is about to be attacked and I will not stand by and simply watch as it is defended by a horde of Persians…" "Tamina!" Dastan had finally managed to find his voice. _What was she up to? She definitely couldn't take no for an answer._ With a sigh he turned to her trying to explain the reason why she had to stay behind. "You… I… " "What _Prince_ Dastan?" The intonation in her voice left no doubt in his mind that she was mocking him … again. This made his anger rise rapidly. Taking some leather ties from his saddle he pushed his horse towards the one the princess was riding and with a swift motion he ties her hands together. Too surprised Tamina reacted seconds to late and found herself left under the protection of one astonished Bis. He hadn't seen that one coming either. "Bis make sure the princess stays out of trouble and safe." Dastan exhorted his friend, his gaze holding Bis' for some moments longer and conveying the importance of this task to his footman. A brief nod confirmed him that he had been understood and Bis took the reins of Tamina's horse to keep it from running off with the others once the signal for battle would be given.

"Are we ready now?" A very impatient Garsiv ground out, his horse relaying his impatience by chomping on its bit. A harsh tug of his hands on the reins made it move briefly backwards to keep it under control. Tus could only shake his head in wonder at his brothers' antics. Always eager to jump into battle, never sparing a thought to the possible outcome, Garsiv really was the epitome of the warrior. He, Tus, always had to think about the consequences, a gift of his education as the future king of Persia, not that he wished for his mind to run off in all directions… but now was not the time for debate, it was the time for action!

The encampment in front of them seemed still quiet but men could be seen readying their gear near the dying fires. It wouldn't take them much longer to be battle ready. It was time to act. Now or the element of surprise would be lost with the rising sun. "For King Sharaman and Persia!" Tus yelled spurring his horse into action, with a leap it set forward towards the enemy Garsiv and Dastan following right behind. Both galloped to their assigned posts and followed by their men the army swept over the mountain slope like a giant wave of bodies. Soon the first cries of agony could be heard in the distance as the troops clashed with the enemy. A roar rose from the throats of the soldiers on foot, meant to give them the necessary courage to run into the thick of the battle. For many of them it would be their last sound interrupted by a well aimed arrow or the swift slice of a blade.

Garsiv had launched his horse into the thickest throng of bodies, alternating blows to the left and to the right with his axe, leaving a trail of fallen men behind him. This was his element, action and reaction executing a graceful yet deadly dance, no time for second guessing or elaborating strategies. He surely wasn't cut for diplomacy, so he gratefully left that to his older sibling.

Tus led the main force of their soldiers towards the enemy. They would join soon and crash upon Koshkhan like a tidal wave, crushing everything in its wake. He quickly sent a prayer for his family to Ormazd before plunging his drawn sword into the first man that tried to block his path. Soon everything morphed into a blur of motion and colour, the sound somewhat muffled by the blood rushing in his veins. There was no time to think any more…

Dastan directed Aksh toward his goal, his legs pressing firmly into the vibrating flanks. He could feel the power of the muscles moving beneath him. The world seemed small and frail from his elevated point of view. He could very well understand why the black stallion was Garsiv's favourite, he was as eager to plunge into the thickest of an ongoing battle as his master. The thought made a smile appear on the prince's lips. As far as he was concerned he preferred to be on eye level with his enemy. It kept things more human, well if one could consider bloodshed human... Somehow fighting allowed him to clear his tormented mind. In battle all that counted was a warriors actions, no need to engage verbal jousts or complicated mind games.

With one mighty leap Aksh jumped the first lines of hastily mounted defences the men cowering down as the dark shadow seemed to appear out of thin air just before their eyes. Dastan had drawn his favourite twin blades and was dealing blow upon blow, leading his horse with the shift of his body weight and the pressure of his calves. Aksh reacted perfectly to his commands almost as if their minds were joined.

From his vantage point, Bis longingly observed the fights wishing he could ride beside the prince to protect him, to be his backup as usual when Dastan managed to get himself into impossible situations. This time the prince had given him a different task and he prayed that he wouldn't pay the price of this decision. Once this was over Dastan would have a lot of things to explain… His eyes continuously scanned the mass of moving bodies, trying to distinguish his friend, but the dust made it almost impossible. _There!_ Rising in his stirrups Bis could see Aksh leaping over some kind of obstacle, then rearing to fend of the mass of soldiers trying to block his movements. Then suddenly the horse drew up upon his posterior legs and slammed to the ground, immediately swallowed by the crowd. Bis felt helpless, his hand itching to draw his own sword and to join the fight. Involuntarily his gaze swept to his right to the princess. Had she seen what he had just observed? Her eyes seemed lost in the distance a look of horror and disgust etched on her face. She was apparently deeply lost in thought.

Tamina was overwhelmed. Everything seemed to happen at once. There was an onslaught of sensations her mind couldn't process fast enough: the metallic tang of drawn blood, the cries of agony, the screeching sound of blades being violently parried. It was almost too much to bear. She had thought the battle at the village was gruesome, but this topped it all… She couldn't help but shudder thinking of all the lives that would be lost. No wonder the gods had once decided to end it all. Seeing this she wasn't sure their decision to halt the all encompassing sandstorm had been the right one. Mankind was cruel and undeserving the grace given.

Bis quickly returned to his prior observation. It took him some time to make out the large black horse with its now vacated saddle…

Moments earlier…

It took all of his concentration to manage to deflect the blows directed at his horse. He didn't see the danger looming to his right until both of them were thrown down. Despite his quick usual reactions Dastan didn't have time to get his feet out of the heavy stirrups and as he crashed to the ground partially buried under his mount the air was violently pushed out of his lungs. Even if his head didn't hit the hard ground, he felt dizzy for some moments. Thankfully Aksh seemed not to have been seriously hurt, because he was up in no time, leaving his rider lying on the ground gasping for air. Dastan looked up as he sensed more than saw a large shadow looming above him. Instinctively he drew up both of the swords he luckily still held in his clenched fists crossing them to block the hit he felt coming. He used the moment of respite this gave him to get his legs under him and as he faced his attacker a grim smile set on his lips.

"Kosh", he ground out. "Finally!" So this was it. If he could defeat the man this battle would be over and many lives saved, if he met his demise trying to reach that goal well then so be it. With a cry he launched himself upon his opponent making him draw back some steps in order to block the incoming attack. Giving him no time to find his bearings Dastan lunged forward again using a quick sequence Garsiv had reluctantly shown him years ago while they were still warriors in training. It usually left his opponent with a large gap in his defence and he was then able to end the combat with one swift movement upwards. But not so this time, he had forgotten Kosh had had the same sparring partners and he was able to deflect the deadly blow just in time his own sword drawing blood. Dastan gritted his teeth at the searing pain in his upper left arm and it took him all his energy not to drop his sword out of his hand.

"You street rabble are no match for me!" Kosh gloated. "I will kill you like some rabid dog and leave your body to rot in the sun."

His movements more careful now, the prince deflected the oncoming blow with some effort. His arm protested at each movement and if the trembling in his hand was any indication, he would have to finish this quickly or Kosh might be proven right.

Both men continued to fight oblivious to what was happening around them, their blows coming in rapid sequences interrupted regularly by pauses to catch their breath. They were panting both from the exertion and the heat that kept rising with the sun. Dastans vision was blurry, Kosh had managed to punch him with the pommel of his sword, while they were close each trying to unbalance the other with his own body weight. He stumbled and fell to his knees momentarily unable to focus. The world was spinning sickeningly. Shaking his head to clear it, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. _Not good! Get to your feet and quickly! _Still staggering somewhat he managed to get to his feet, pushing himself off the ground with one arm while turning towards his enemy ready to deflect the next blow. It never came.

Kosh stood next to him sword drawn high above his head, his face frozen in an unbelieving grimace. The man's legs gave out and he crumbled to his feet. A spear was sticking out of his back its owner waiting patiently for Dastan to recover and to find his bearings. He sat on a large brown steed wearing an ornate saddle with gold trimmings and the symbol of the temple guard embossed in it. A frown crossed the prince's face. He knew that face from somewhere…

Asoka had seen the warlord trying to stab the prince from behind and although an unspoken code among warriors strictly forbade that one intervene in a duel, he couldn't simply stand by and watch his former opponent now turned ally being backstabbed. He could see the prince shaking this head again trying to get rid of the cobwebs blurring his vision and then the brief flash of surprise pass on his face when he realized who had just saved his life. Both men exchanged brief nods and resumed fighting. Victory was still far away…

The battle had been raging for hours, now as daylight kept declining, the outcome was near. Most of Koshkhan's men had been killed, others had surrendered after they heard that their leader had been killed. Persian and Alamutian soldiers were herding remnants of the invaders toward the city to lead them to the palace and its prison where they would await their fate.

Smoke and dust billowed over the battlefield giving it a surreal touch. Seeing that it was over Bis could no longer stay put. He urged his horse through the maze of dead bodies and debris. _Where was Dastan?_ He hadn't seen him since he had witnessed Aksh go down. Worry was etched on his face and he had completely forgotten that he still had the princesses' horse tied to his. Surprisingly Tamina hadn't protested yet at being dragged around like some package. She was surrounded by the smell of death and despair. It left her shaken and trembling.

They had almost gotten to the gates to the west when Bis noticed a silhouette sitting against a fallen pillar head bowed low, hands resting on the knees, but still clutching two familiar blades. "Dastan!" Swiftly the footman slid down from his horse and ran towards his captain, his friend. At the sound of his name, the prince had risen his head looking warily for the source. Relief flooded his face as he saw both his friend and the princess safe and sound. He slowly pushed himself to his feet leaning heavily against the stone. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get rid of the grime and then to drop on his pallet to sleep but first he had to bring the princess back to her palace and then to report to his father and his brethren. Bis engulfed him in a bear hug before slapping him affectionately on the shoulder.


	22. Chapter 22

Hello, I've decided to upload this short piece, just to prove that I've not given up on this, but I can't seem to find the time to make some real progress. In fact I've almost finished the story, except for one scene that refuses to come along the way I want it to... Apologies for the delay... As always feel free to leave a review as they're most appreciated,,,

It had taken hours to remove the injured and the dead. Tus and Garsiv had taken care of their respective soldiers and left the so called street rabble to its captain, Dastan. He had been relieved to see most of them unscathed. Some minor cuts and large bruises were all they had. He took care to assign them all they needed that is a large tent and rations as an acknowledgment of their valour. Gratefully they had accepted the reward and were now taking care of their weapons, lightly chattering and comparing their prowess during the battle. Dastan observed them from his vantage point at the entry of his own tent. He longed for their simple life. They didn't ask themselves questions, they simply lived the days as they came, followed his orders without regrets.

"Dastan … ?" Bis hated to interrupt his captain's musings, but the cut on his arm didn't look too good and needed to be tended to, else the wound might get infected really fast. In this heavy climate this was a high risk. "Let me take care of your arm." The prince had almost forgotten about it, as long as he didn't move it the pain was bearable. With a sigh he turned toward the large pallet sitting right in the center of the tent and warily sat down on it. The footman started working on the straps holding his breastplate in place so he started unlacing his braces carefully inspecting the new dents on the leather. Some would need repairs, but now was not the moment to think about that. The battle had left him covered in grime and sweat a bath would be more than welcome, but the basin of fresh water sitting next to him would suffice for now. After finishing his ablutions he sat back letting Bis inspect his upper arm. "This might need stitches." A hiss escaped Dastan as Bis cleaned out the wound and touched a particularly tender spot. "No this can wait my friend. We need to get the princess back to the palace." He didn't see Bis roll his eyes at his comment his attention being caught by movement outside his tent. Apparently the princess had found the head of her guard and both were now approaching the tent. While his footman continued to fasten a clean bandage around his arm Dastan desperately tried to gather his wits for the verbal joust to come and failed miserably.

"I wish to return to my city immediately, prince," she harshly demanded without further preamble and even Asoka winced at the tone. He knew her well enough to know she felt uncomfortable and she tried to disguise it this way. It made him consider her more attentively. _Was it worry he could distinguish on her face? Was she really that concerned about the well being of this Persian?_ He had bowed to the prince and kept his head bent as a sign of respect for his leader and the foreign prince. The man had managed to defeat him once and he had let him live. Today he had been able to repay his debt by returning the favour. His musings were abruptly interrupted by the prince, who stood swaying slightly on his feet for some moments before steadying himself. His hand clenched Bis' shoulder using it for support until the world stopped spinning. _Damn blood loss. Now wasn't the time to show weakness…_

"If you give me time to dress properly I will escort you back to you palace princess…" he let his voice drift off trying to hide his smirk as he saw the blush creep up on Tamina's cheeks. She averted her gaze, her eyes darting around trying to avoid that well muscled chest displayed before her. Bis turned to hide his smirk while searching for the appropriate garments for his captain. "I still have to thank the captain of your guard for his help." At this Asoka raised his head and their eyes met. He could see the honesty in the prince's eyes. This man was a man of honour, a true warrior like himself. Both shook hands. "If you ever need help it will be an honour for me to ride by your side, " Dastan continued. "The honour will be all mine," with that Asoka bowed even lower, but Dastan stopped his movement with a sign of his hand. "No, don't bow for me… I'm not superior to you… if at all it would be me to bow before you…"

Tamina was speechless. This man managed to surprise her every time they met and mostly she found no other way to counter the effect he was having on her than to try to discountenance him somehow. "I'll wait outside… till you are presentable. You Persians and your disregard for manners are already legendary, there's no need to add to it." With that she turned on her heels and in two strides she was outside trying to get her emotions under control without being scrutinized by the three men. Dastan stood rooted to the spot mouth agape. Once again the princess had gotten the better of him. Asoka couldn't help but chuckle at the scene. He was pleased to see his princess seemed to have finally found someone that caught her attention and managed to pierce the brick walls she had erected around her heart. Soon Bis and Dastan joined in and the three of them shared a laugh at the expense of the fiery princess.

Soon they were ready and the small group set out towards the city the princess proudly galloping in front and the princes following closely with Bis and Asoka forming the rear of the escort. People were milling through the streets trying to assess the damages done to their city by the most recent attack. They eagerly leapt out of the way as they heard the sound of the pounding hooves on the pavements. It didn't take them long to get to the palace where King Sharaman waited for them, his footman right by his side. Both men had mounted their horse to be on eye level with the group riding towards them.

As Dastan caught sight of his adoptive father his thoughts went back to a moment in time so long ago when his destiny had made a harsh 180° turn. Sharaman still had the same regal air and his age hadn't yet bent him even if his head was now crowned in grey. He had had time to change out of his amour into more fitting garments for the occasion. His gaze swept over the approaching group, taking in every detail. Relief flooded him as his mind registered that none of his sons had been seriously injured. His eyes stopped as they encountered another pair, icy blue ones… _Dastan… his youngest son… the one that had been agonizing the last time he saw him… Now he proudly mounted his … brothers black stallion?_ A smirk appeared on the face of the old man. Some things would never change in Persia, especially in the royal family…


	23. Chapter 23

Ok my dear patient readers this is it. This chapter and the next one and this story arc will come to an end... Thank you for reading and leaving constructive criticism (if necessary). All errors are as usual mine... Enjoy!

Present day…

The council of Alamut had arranged for a large banquet at the palace and e veryone was invited. The whole city was preparing for the feast meant as a reward for the help against Koshkhan's troops. Somehow everyone seemed to have forgotten that only a short time prior to these events the Persians had themselves brought destruction upon the fair city of Alamut.

Bis enjoyed the buzzing activity around the marketplace treating himself with some delicious ripe dates while following his captain. Dastan had decided he needed to get out of the palace. He felt the ancient walls closing in on him as memories from the other time assaulted him in every corner. Perhaps the activity around the market would distract him somewhat… So he aimlessly strolled around observing the merchants and the bustling life around him. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks making Bis almost collide with him puzzled about this incongruent behaviour. "Dastan, what…?" before he could utter the question Dastan had stormed off right through a group of people. Bis hastily made some excuses trying not to loose sight of the prince. Hurrying after him he found him standing near an old tormented olive tree, his hand placed on a low branch, head bowed. _This had to end! They wouldn't be safe until the Hassansins were definitively disbanded. None of them! Not his family and friends, not Tamina, not even the innocent people of this city. They were all oblivious to the danger dangling upon their heads. The decision presented itself clearly in his mind. He had to act, to protect them all…_ "… if I die trying then so be it". His own words came back to him in an instant. He remembered the incredulous look on her face… Shaking his head to clear it, he looked up, his eyes following the tall shape of the Temple towering high above. With a sigh he turned and directed his steps towards the palace leaving a clueless Bis in his wake. He didn't hear him call his name his mind set on the task at hand. _He needed to talk to Father! Immediately_!

It took him only half the time necessary to get back to the palace. And even less to storm the stairs towards the throne room where Sharaman seemed to have taken residence. Without waiting to knock he swung open the large wooden door, only to find the room empty… Where was everybody? He was sure he would find most of the generals or at least his brethren inside with their father. His mind tried to come up with an explanation, but found none that seemed viable. The encampment! They had to be there… Turning on his heel, he almost bumped into Bis again who had just cleared the stairwell and tried to understand the hurry his captain seemed to be in. Without a word he dashed back down towards the large courtyard ready to get to his horse, fortunately for his footman, he didn't see him rolling his eyes at his behaviour.

The Persian soldiers were enjoying the respite after the harsh days lying behind them. Most of them had installed their tents freely around the encampment and were now busy sleeping or gambling or whatever they came up with. Drinking wasn't an option because the King himself was present and he kept a tight rein on them whenever they were outside of their barracks – or even when they were within… Now with the princes… it was a whole different story… None of them had expected the irruption of the galloping horse in the midst of their peacefully resting groups and to say they were pleased to be interrupted in their occupations was very exaggerated, when the horse leapt across their group they scrambled away as fast as they could. Almost immediately rising to their feet screaming obscenities at the rider before realizing who it was that had so unceremoniously disturbed them.

Dastan usually would have stopped to set thing straight, but he had his mind set on the mission he had given himself. He needed to get his fathers approval though before setting out. This could not be delayed any longer and the shortest way to his tent was the only option hence the shortcuts over the groups and campfires. Not that he didn't enjoy rattling their cages from time to time, this wasn't his goal for now. The large stallion slid into a stop right in front of the main tent its nostrils flaring in the face of the guard standing there afraid to breath or to show his fear. Dastan had already dismounted and disappeared inside before he was able to react and seize the reins that had been thrown towards him.

Everyone looked up at the sudden irruption and Sharaman's face lit up upon recognizing his youngest. Tus and Garsiv exchanged a rather exasperated look at their brother's antics even if his presence surprised them. Normally he didn't bother to join their meetings after the battles. He preferred the company of his men to politics and decision taking. For him to storm in like he just had something serious must have come up Sharaman mused and perhaps he had some idea of what kept his adoptive son's mind busy. "Leave us alone," he ordered aloud as he watched a guarded mask slip onto Dastan's face. They had to talk about the events that had taken place and he knew things wouldn't be easy. How would Dastan react to the knowledge he was about to share with him? He only could hope for the best. The youngest prince had proven to be as good a listener as a fighter, but this might go even beyond his patience…

"Father…"

"Dastan…" with a hand gesture the king invited his son to continue. Dastan's mind was spinning. _Where should he begin? What should he reveal about Alamut and its secrets?_ He decided to take the risk and explain the whole story.

"You have seen things my son you never should have… Sharaman said once Dastan had stopped his unbelievable tale. His expression was a thoughtful one. The events his youngest son had just revealed to him confirmed his earlier suspicions about his brother's plans. The Hassansins had indeed been kept active and had served their master well. But what would happen now that he was gone? They were set loose and it was impossible to say what they would plan next. They had to be taken care of as soon as possible.

Dastan observed his fathers reactions closely, he could see the emotions raging in his eyes. Anger, grief, worry and even fear mingled there… He had to do something. "Father…" A raised hand stopped him even before he had spoke his intentions. "No… This isn't a problem for you to solve on your own Dastan. You've done enough already. We need to plan our actions carefully before we act. I know that you want to take immediate action, but as your father and king I must ask you to wait…"


	24. Chapter 24

Let's go last part of this story, hope you enjoy. Apologies for the long delay...

Later that day…

The sky above extended endlessly in deep royal blue sprinkled with countless sparkling diamonds. A dark shadow stood out on a balcony staring at them. They had always given him a feeling of security, a sign of the grand scheme governing all life above and beyond, even his. The orphan he was felt free up there…

The discussion he had had with father had only confirmed his worst fears. He had to act. They were all in great danger, again. The man who had given him a life, a purpose, his brothers, who had accepted and welcomed him with open arms, after testing him thoroughly that is, his best friend who had always been with him, even going as far as to sacrifice his life for him to get to safety. No, that had been in the rewound time! And then … there was the one person that held his heart, that had kept him intrigued right from the very first moment they met, challenging him, keeping him on his toes during their whole now non existing ordeal.

And somewhere along their adventures she had stolen his heart. _No wait …!_ He had willingly given it. Something he had never expected to happen… He didn't believe the old wives tales he had been told as a boy...

A cool breeze swept the city far below and left him shivering slightly. The Morning Star had risen. It was time to leave, but first he had to see her once more, to make sure she was well. One last time…

With one swift movement he hoisted himself up on the railing. Two strides took him to the nearest wall towering high above him. He knew the way to her apartments by heart, even if he never had officially been there. A smile found its way to his lips. How furious she would be if she knew… He could almost imagine her right there in front of him hands on her hips, foot stomping to show him, the barbarian, her wounded feelings. A smirk graced his lips at the image that rose before his inner eye. That day in the desert, when she had pierced his defences and worn out his patience… he had revealed her his more that humble origins and left her speechless, for once…

Effortlessly he overcame the obstacles on his way. Almost instinctively his hands found the small crevices that allowed him to climb higher and higher. They still held some warmth even during the cold night. Using every shadow and every trick he had learned from childhood on, it took him only a short time to reach his goal. He swung himself over the railing and knelt on the floor, briefly holding his breath to listen to the noises from the inside. His movements had been stealthy as always, but one never knew with a certain princess…

Fortunately the intricate wooden blinds hadn't been shut, leaving the long creamy curtains to flow freely in the cool morning breeze. He wouldn't have any problem to get in… No light illuminated the room making his task a little more difficult. He would have to navigate almost on instinct…

He moved swiftly through the billowing silks and dove for the next shadowy space inside. Almost immediately the overwhelming smell of incense tickled his nose. A spicy mix of sandalwood and cinnamon he would always associate with the princess. He briefly closed his eyes inhaling deeply, confining the powerful yet very subtle perfume to his memory.

His eyes having adjusted to the surrounding darkness, the moonlight made it easy to move towards her bed avoiding every potential obstacle on his way. There she was, sleeping peacefully. Her face seemed much younger now and so innocent. Her ebony curls flowed freely on the pillows. His fingers itched, he longed to touch them, to feel them silkily gliding over his hands and through his fingers, but he didn't dare, didn't trust himself, so he simply stood rooted to the spot drinking in her graceful appearance.

"I promise to protect you and your precious dagger with my life," the words had come out almost before he realized. He took his ring, the one his father had given him as proof of his adoption and carefully, not to disturb her set it on her pillow as a token of his vow.

Then, as diligently as he had gotten in, he left her chambers. Soon far below the pounding hooves of a galloping horse could be heard. The Persian guards let the rider pass, immediately recognizing the dark stallion and its royal harness even in the lingering darkness of the early morning light.

Reaching a small hill at some distance, he stopped and turned Aksh to get a final look at the city. The needle of the High Temple glowed in the first rays of the rising sun like a beacon showing the way to a safe haven… _Not yet…_ he thought the pressure of his legs spurring his horse into movement again…

to be continued…


End file.
